


Obsidian

by sombreset



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu-Gi-Oh! Series
Genre: But there are some happy times, Everyone and everything is cold, M/M, Major character death tag is for past deaths, Mild Language, Prideshipping, Soft Seto and a very artsy Atem, Souls are attached to lanterns, dystopian au, mild violence, occasionally illustrated, past puzzleshipping
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-09 04:29:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 62,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12880206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sombreset/pseuds/sombreset
Summary: Everything and everyone was born and died within the depths of Earth.





	1. Worsening

___ _

 

* * *

 

_Everything and everyone was born and died within the depths of Earth._

He didn’t remember when he had woken, only that he had been staring at the stone wall across from him for at least an hour waiting for sunlight. That was the only time that everything was okay, when beasts and what was left of humans fought everyone and everything for warmth. But he, he was smart. He told himself this, and he told himself that he was fine.

The sunlight was always tempting, it beckoned like a drug. But he knew better, he only left his home full of locks and traps when food supplies were low. That day was today, and he knew there would only be a 3 hour window before the sun went back down.

He figured a bath might be nice too, considering he ran out of stored water for such pleasantries months ago. Maybe some clothes, yes. Winter was coming fast, maybe there were still a few jackets left in his favorite store.

It wasn’t like the world was scavenged too harshly. People died off quickly, he knew there only a few left. The screaming and fighting wasn’t as frequent as it used to be, fools that ran off with someone else’s flame only stayed warm for a while longer before the depths bellowed at them for their sins.

Bones and empty bronze lanterns were all that remained now.

New souls, new bodies stopped emerging from the deep. New candles in finely crafted bronze holders, but no welcoming. Before, when there were new souls, they would be welcomed by another human kneeling to the cold form and touching the wick of their candle to theirs. A shared flame, the exchange of time from old to new.

But there were no children now. They were alone and cold at the shore, and they all died. Now nothing changed at all, and the sun was abandoning everyone.

He didn’t like to think about the ocean. No, he thought of him. And it made him sad.

The sun would be up soon, so he got out of bed. Got dressed, washed his face and brushed his teeth to the best of his ability. It was all routine now, everything he did was the same. He looked at his reflection in the only mirror that wasn’t cracked, picked up the piece of paper that always sat next to it on a small table.

Looked back into tired blue eyes, and he began to read.

“My name is Seto, given to me by myself. I have no last name, as I was born after the tradition of surnames and family systems began to die out. I’m twenty years old. I was born on October 25th according to the Gregorian Calendar, though this is an estimate. I like games, my favorite game is chess. I also enjoy card games. I have a pinochle deck that is complete, therefore it is my favorite. I have remnants of other miscellaneous games, but the decks are incomplete or there are rules missing. My favorite color is blue.”

He swallowed nothing, paused. Looked at his reflection. Took a deep breath.

_Never easy._

“I have one family member. He adopted me as his older brother, and I adopted him as my younger. His name is Mokuba, no last name. I met him on January first of my ninth year. He was born as what seemed to be a young toddler, I shared candlelight with him. He likes games too. We cleared out this facility and lived here safe for years. Mokuba went missing on July seventh of my sixteenth year, and I have not seen him since. We were attacked while collecting food, and I do not remember the events that occurred past that. I make attempts to find Mokuba frequently. I love him and he makes me happy. I live alone now, but I’m okay.”

He looked at the calendar hung on the wall, it was old and faded.

Seto closed his eyes, listened to the silence.

Quiet, everything was quiet.

Opened his eyes, looked at his reflection.

_Blue._

“Today is October 24th. No notable or recorded holidays or events. My birthday is tomorrow, I will check some old stores for the last ingredients to make a pumpkin pie.”

Lips shut tight, he stared at himself.

“What else,” he mumbled quietly, racked his brain. Stared at the intricate designs crafted from bronze at the top of the mirror frame. “What else?”

_“You talk to yourself in the mirror? You’re silly.”_

_“It helps me. Why do you think it’s silly?”_

_“Because I’m here! Hah. I’m like, uh… a recording machine! You can tell me anything and I’ll remember it.”_

_“Anything, huh? Okay. Let’s see… Seto has the dweebiest little brother in the whole world.”_

_“Pff. Sorry, suddenly my memory sucks. Haha.”_

_“Does it now?”_

_“Jerk.”_

_*smile smile*_

_“Okay, then. How about… Seto has the best little brother in the entire universe.”_

_“... Hah. Geez. I remember stuff now.”_

_“Do you?”_

_“Yeah. You can remember stuff too, right?”_

_“Obviously.”_

_“Okay. Mokuba has the coolest brother ever and one day the two of ‘em are gonna make all the candlelights return to the sky and everything will be bright again. And, um, everyone will be super happy and treat the two brothers like kings.”_

_“...”_

_“Or something.”_

_“Recorded. Hah. You’re a dork, Mokuba.”_

_“But you love me.”_

_“Correct.”_

_“Haha.”_

Seto lost track of time, realized he had been staring at all the imperfections on his face for several minutes.

And he felt cold.

“I miss Mokuba,” he said quietly to the empty space. “That’s it.”

The rest of the morning passed by quick, he wasted too much time standing in front of the mirror. Ate what he had, raw potatoes and beets were standard, but terribly difficult to eat.

_Nothing grew above soil, never did._

Pulled his hair back into a ponytail, wrapped it around a few times and made a small bun. He rarely cut his hair anymore, considered dulling blades on his appearance as a waste of time and resources. Put on his jacket, a gun secured on the inside. Boots, gloves.

“Same shit,” he said. “Always the same shit.”

Grabbed his bag, heavy with tools and other small items for survival. Bypassed the traps, opened door after door, keylock after keylock.  

Opening the final door so fast was a stupid mistake because he miscalculated and the sun had already risen, it hurt his eyes.

_But his heart, his mind, they exhaled bliss._

_The sun._

_The Sun, Gods, he wanted to build one of those rocketships he had read about and fly straight into it._

Closed his eyes. Felt warm.

_Ignore it._

Kept on walking, felt the sun warm his body. And he wanted to lay there, in the light. Fall asleep and never get back up.

_Ignore it._

Closest store was two and a half miles away.

“Four kilometers,” he said. “Only four kilometers.”

He looked behind, at his home.

The old letters painted onto the side of concrete walls.

**GOVERNMENT USE ONLY**

**TRESPASSERS WILL ARRESTED ON SIGHT**

Smaller letters.

**DANGER!**

**HIGHLY FLAMMABLE MATERIALS**

**NO SMOKING WITHIN 50 METERS**

He turned back towards the road.

“I wonder if I can find any smokes. Probably not. Last time I saw one was probably 5 months ago.” He stepped over the cracks where the road had deteriorated. “I didn’t even like them that much. But I had seen advertisements for them and people looked happy. Probably wasn’t even worth it.”

Kicked rocks. Looked forward, not at the sky. “It was kinda stupid, really. Had to use…”

He stopped. Everything in him stopped, except for his mind and his beating heart.

_Candlelight._

_Candlelight._

His heart was pounding. Eyes wide, feet frozen on warm pavement.

Candlelight.

“Shit.”

He turned back towards his home, he ran. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Tripped over the crack he had stepped over earlier, scraped his knee.

He would be upset that he ripped a hole in his favorite and fairly new pants, but his mind was occupied.

His dumb knee bled slightly as he ran, he ignored it.  

“Stupid,” his hands shook as he found the right key on a ring of many. “You stupid, stupid piece of shit.”

His mind played tricks on him, played out scenarios he tried not to think about.

That someone had already broken into his house, a stranger with no face.

He’d walk into his bedroom, and they would point a gun at his head. Then they would run away with the lantern, and Seto would go cold.

The last door was opened.

He’d walk into his bedroom, and they would point a gun at his head. Then they would laugh, lick their gross, worn fingers, pinch the wick of the candle and Seto would drop dead. Or maybe he would do what others did, and he would fall into the obsidian.

The bedroom door,

_He’d walk into his bedroom_

Seto sighed, wanted to cry but he never did _ever_ , he told himself so. He was relieved see the lantern glowing quietly at his bedside. His life, yearning for him and he felt warm when he held the handle.

“Idiot. I’m so sorry.”

But he didn’t know who he was apologizing to.

He locked up his house again, left with the lantern. But he felt much worse, and he kicked small pebbles as he walked.  

 

* * *

 

2 hours left of sun. Seto decided he wanted to feel decent, and he trailed away from the road to the nearby river. He needed more freshwater anyway. He wondered if things had always been this way, if the water was always shades of black. It wasn’t that the water wasn’t clean, _the ocean was filled with death he preferred the rivers,_ it was just how it looked. At least the water was safe to drink. Apparently in years long past, pollution made drinking from rivers unsafe. That, and there used to be bacteria in the water. But rarely anything lived anywhere now that wasn’t mean and senseless. Anything else was killed off.

Clothes set aside, candle set on the ground a safe distance away, but somewhere always in sight. Gun set on a flat rock near where he was currently standing in waist deep water, freezing and naked. He worked fast with the soap and hair products he found a few months back. He hated feeling exposed to the air, thought that there were a thousand eyes in the forest.

He tried to relax, hummed nameless songs to himself as he massaged his scalp with shaking fingers.

His mind showed him terrible things. He thought of his brain as a bad television set. _Television sounded much better,_ if he didn’t like what he saw he could just change the channel. But the imagination was much more cruel.

Everything was fine, he just hated rinsing himself. He was afraid if he submerged his head, a beast would come and drag him to shore. He was afraid if he submerged his head, the water current would suddenly pick up and sweep him to the depths. He was afraid if he submerged his head, someone would take his lantern and run.

He stared at the water below. Grey currents. Closed his eyes, held his breath. Went under. The water was _so fucking cold,_ it stung his lips as his fingers moved frantically to remove the chemicals from his hair. He thought about how the water pressed against his stomach. And instead of imagining everything that could kill him, he thought of pumpkin pie.

An hour and 45 minutes left of sun, and Seto was sitting on a rock next to the lantern. It kept his toes warm. He had dried himself off to the best of his abilities with a towel he found a long time ago, and he loved it.

It was obviously made for children, but he didn’t care. It was blue, tiny dragons printed in an arranged pattern. Yes, he loved dragons, because they were frightening and cool but they didn’t exist.

Dry and wrapped in clothing, lantern back in hand, but he was still cold despite the sun. The backpack he had felt heavier than usual, but he assumed it was just the world and everything that wasn’t good trying to slow him down.

“Too bad.” He smiled. Imagined Mokuba was walking with him. “I’m having pie.”

 


	2. Miasma Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback always cherished.   
> (Psst! The links with character names are links to music associated with them!)

* * *

  

[Atem](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5AGZuqB1rJk&index=31&list=PL3EWoTGbnTWamJ239YRo9QWFpiOlrOoJe)

 

* * *

 

The shopping center he usually went to had remained relatively untouched, there weren’t a lot of people living in this area when everything shut down. Apparently there was a group of people that had seized it and boarded it up nicely, preserving everything inside. But they had been killed off a while ago, and nobody was alive to steal anything.

“Except for me.” Seto stepped over broken glass, and walked inside. “Except for me.”

The escalators were still intact, and sometimes Seto would stop on the first step. He imagined that somehow, electricity would run and things would move. He was jealous of the feet that had been where his were long ago, people that got to ride the stupid thing while eating stupid food and buying dumb clothes.

He always stared at the banner above the escalators as he walked.

 

**_Fall back into savings!_ **

Cute little autumn leaves and happy looking people with scarves. A man and a woman holding hands.

“I hate you two,” he said. But he was just lonely, and he was jealous. He stepped over where the cover at the top of the escalator was supposed to be, old mechanics and dust, chewed wires. “Imagine that. A place where lots of people joined together and held hands. Smiling and stuff. Saving money on things.” The food court was disgusting, but it made him hungry and angry. So he walked to the right, passed by empty chairs and pots where plants used to be. Except for the fake plants, they were there.

He found the clothing store he liked, one he figured he’d _love_ if he lived in its prime. Fashion had always interested him even though it was a null and pointless concept. Almost everything there was still intact, racks still full of clothing. When he had first found the place, everything was knocked over and ugly. But he cleaned it up and set everything up the way he assumed it used to be. A pointless task, but he did it anyway.

Women’s clothing were much more detailed, a lot more care put into the design. But nothing really fit him well, and it certainly didn’t protect him or keep him warm. So he riffled through the sweaters in the men’s section, it was getting into the cold season anyway.

“All these sweaters are stupid,” he said. “I want a hooded one.”

There was a blue one he liked on another rack, he pretended to decide between choosing it and another design. Grabbed it, and a new pair of pants.

Fitting room.

He shut the door to one of the small rooms, began to undress in the light of the candle. Didn’t look at his reflection in the mirror until he was fully clothed again in new items.

_Blue._

Looked at himself, his eyes. Clean hair, clean face.

And he felt kind of nice.

“I think I’ll buy them,” he told his reflection.

Then he laughed.

But _Gods_ he couldn’t wait for his voice to stop echoing because there was a noise in the quiet that wasn’t created by himself, and it came from the direction of the entrance to the shopping center. Feet on glass.

_Another,_

He reached into his discarded coat on the floor and grabbed the gun.

_Another person._

Breathed quietly, but it was still too fucking loud.

Listened.

 

Loud breathing, clanking of metal objects. The person was running,

Seto left his bag in the changing room, opened the door quietly. Set the lantern behind him in the walkway, held the gun tight and stood where he could see the entrance to the store.

The person was running, they were running up the escalators, he knew, he knew the sound. His heart was loud, and he hated it. He hadn’t seen another human in at least a year, he thought all the others were gone.

_Except for Mokuba,_

He closed his eyes, stilled his hands.

_Except for Mokuba._

The person must’ve disappeared into one of the nearby shops, a shoe store Seto didn’t like.

_Go._

Seto planned on turning and grabbing his bag, making a run for it.

Glass shattered again, but there were more sounds of feet this time, and louder mouths.

_No._

Now, Seto was scared. He could deal with one person, but not more than two. That was too many, and now he couldn’t run.

“Shit,” he whispered. “Shit, shit shit.”

Voices heard clearer.

“Hey!” Someone was shouting.

The voice was loud. An older man.  

“Hey!”

Another voice. But the words didn’t make sense.

More footsteps, hasty as they got closer.

“Here!”

And Seto finally realized, realized why he was so nervous. Why his heart felt dragged towards the entrance of the store.

_Warmth._

There was a candle nearby.

Another candle besides his own.

Eyes wide.

These people were fighting over a candle.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Fuck, fuck.”

That means they would sense his own candle, too.

Steps drew near, and Seto held the pistol handle tight.

 _They probably don’t have a gun,_ he thought. _They probably don’t have a gun. I’ll win._

They stopped moving, harsh breathing.

“Two,” a voice slurred. “Two candles.”

Seto bit his lip.

They knew he was here.

One set of feet trailed off into the other store.

And the other man came into view, Seto could see him.

_A disgusting thing._

Chapped bloody lips, so many layers of fabrics and clothing he looked like a monster. But the clothing was all tattered. The man was holding a large knife, there was dried blood on it. Seto could tell the man was shaking, but it wasn’t from fear, it was only because of the cold.

_The worst agony._

_No time,_ Seto relaxed his hands. _No time._

_Go._

The man spotted him. Screamed, and it mixed with the noise of a shelf falling in the next shop over.

Seto gritted his teeth. Lifted the gun, and pointed it at the man.

_Go._

The man pushed one of the clothing racks over, and he stumbled into a run towards Seto’s direction, knife lifted towards the ceiling.

A few yellow teeth, rotten gums.

_Go!_

Seto aimed the best he could, and shot. Aimed for the head because he was an idiot, and he missed.

Waited too long.

The man extended his arm, reached towards him. Clotted fingernails.

Seto aimed again, pulled the trigger and shot him in the stomach. Fluff from the padded coat stuck outwards but the man continued to move. The knife came down, and it stuck into Seto’s shoulder.

He screamed, _God it hurt, God,_ and for the first time in a long time, he thought he was going to die.

The man reached for the gun, and Seto shot again. The bullet bore through the man’s hand and he screamed, fell back. Let go of the knife that hadn’t moved from Seto’s shoulder.

Seto wasn’t sure if he was screaming or just wheezing from fear, but he could barely hear anyway. This was it.

But he remembered.

Things he forgot, things he didn’t ever want to see.

He thought of Mokuba’s face.

Screams he didn’t remember hearing flooded his eardrums, and the loud throbbing of his heart felt nostalgic.

He yelled, loud because he was scared and he shot the man again from where Seto was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall of the fitting room entryway.

Luckily, his wounded shoulder was opposite of his dominant hand and he shot again. Only considered stopping when he realized he forgot spare bullets and he only had two left.

That, and the man was dead.

The adrenaline he was using as a lifeline began to dissipate, and he began to feel the pain from his shoulder. Closed his eyes and tried not to make noise as he pulled the dumb fucking knife from where it stuck into him.

He dropped it onto the floor, gasped. _It hurt._ Blood was sticking to fabric, it was uncomfortable.

_There better have another jacket like this one._

Another loud noise. They were coming this way. The other two. Seto grabbed his lantern, and hid in the dressing room.

 _They’ll fight until one of them is dead._ His shoulder hurt. _Then I run._

Another voice, one he hadn’t heard.

“There’s another candle here!” A younger sounding voice. “Go get that one!”  
Seto frowned. _Bastard._

“No,” a voice of someone cold. “They have a gun. Killed him. No.”

Crashing noises. Clothing racks, probably. A pained noise from the younger sounding person, sounds of a struggle. Fighting with hands, probably.

“No,” the sick voice. Choking noises from the other person. “Give.”

More strangled gasps. Wheezes.

Scraping of something against the floor.

“Give.”

Another noise, struggling, then a loud bang of metal sliding on the tiles, and the object landed right in front of the dressing room Seto was hiding in.

His breath caught in his throat, because his blood was boiling with bliss. From the crack underneath the door, he could see it.

“Oh my God,” he said quietly.

It was the other lantern, finely crafted from bronze. The glass casing was cracked, dots of candle wax splattered inside.

Seto bit his lip. A damaged lantern. As long as they were kept upright, and no air came or left the casing, the wax would never melt. The candle would burn forever. It could also not leave the warmth of the person it was crafted for, the flame would eventually die. But the warmth of a soul beckoned anyone, so people and beasts would fight for their chance for life again.

“Over there,” a cough. The young voice. “Get it!”

“Fool.” Cold, a noise, followed by a yelp from the young man. “Fool.”

Footsteps coming Seto’s way, towards the other lantern. He looked back at his own, it was unscathed. Always had been.

 _He’ll find me,_ Seto held the gun tight. _He’ll kill me._

But he didn’t want to wait until the other man was close enough to lash back, so he threw open the door. Gun pointed towards _anything,_

And he shot as soon as a silhouette presented itself to his eyes.

The figure fell, he recognized it as layers of fabric fell like stained sheets.

Silence, his hands were shaking. He let go of the breath he had been holding onto, eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the dizzy feeling of blood loss.

A cough from the young man. “Lucky shot.”

Eyes opened. Gun lifted, and Seto put up the most intimidating front he could muster. Walked over to the other person on the floor, the owner of the broken lantern. He was surprised to find that he appeared to be the same age as Seto was, and he had weird fucking hair. A deep maroon color, with ashy blonde bangs. And it was a mess.

The other man was badly wounded too, it seemed.

Bruises, cuts.

“Get up,” Seto spat. Tried to look angry and not tired.

“I can’t,” the other man replied. Looked annoyed.

Seto needed to finish this quickly, he needed to treat his wound before he bled too much, or it got infected. “Why not?”

The other man rested his head on the floor. “A few reasons. One, I can’t win against you because you have a gun and I have nothing. By the time I grabbed that knife over there, you’d shoot me. Two, that person stepped on my ankle and if I get up too fast, I’ll just fall back over and hurt my ankle more. Then, you’ll shoot me. Three, I’m probably going to die here. So I’d like to be comfortable on the floor instead of following someone else’s orders and standing for no reason.”

Seto furrowed his brow, was fucking _baffled_ by what the other man was saying. But he kept his gun pointed at him.

“Also, you seem to be wounded. Maybe if I sit here and talk to you long enough, you’ll pass out from blood loss and I can take your gun and save bullets by killing you with the knife. But, I’ll get a free gun and I’ll have _two_ candles. One and a half, actually. Mine is pretty banged up.” The man laughed. “But that’s not how this is going to end. You have the advantage, and I’m going to die. I live in a home not too far from here, if you want some cool shit. I have a working guitar, do you know what that is?”

Seto swallowed nothing.

_Was this intimidation? Was he waiting for him to pass out so he could take the gun? Why was he talking so much? He has a guitar?_

But,

Something in him,

Was happy to have a conversation.

Because, it had been four years since he talked to anyone but himself.

Seto tensed his neck. “I know what a guitar is.”

The other man laughed. “Is that so? I don’t think I’ve met anyone else who knew. Well, one other person. I haven’t spoken to anyone in a fair while. I miss it sometimes.” He closed his eyes. Smiled. “So, uh. Thanks for that, I guess.”

Seto was conflicted.

 _So fucking conflicted._ Nervous.

“... You are welcome.”

“Well, this has been nice, and I’m plenty happy that I got to talk to someone. I’d like to die happy, so if you’d kill me before I start to think too much about how piss-scared I am of the dark, that would be very kind of you.”

Silence. Seto's hands were shaking more than before, and his shoulder hurt. “Why did you bring them to where I was? Why did you tell them to go after me and take my lantern instead?”

“Because I wanted to live.”

Silence. So the other man continued.

“As far as I knew, you were either crazy, cold, or newly dead. Everyone else is a scavenger out for their own reasons. Like I said, you have a gun and I do not. You had a higher chance of killing them off than I did, so I sent them your way and hoped I'd find a chance to run, or something.”

“Why were they following you?” Seto asked.

The man shrugged, closed his eyes. “Why do you think? Lanterns are hard to find these days. Hell, yours is the first one I've seen other than my own in a long time. Don't tell me you've never seen people like them?”

“I have.”

“...Okay. Well, that's why they were after me. I wanted to go get food, and they spotted me. It's that simple.”

“...”

“If I were you I’d hurry up and treat that wound of yours. Looks pretty bad. Might as well off me now, or something, because by the time you get it dressed you're going to be sleeping on the floor. It gets cold at night, you know that.”

“...”

The man glared at him. “Why are you staring at me? Hell- why haven't you _killed_ me yet? Are you insane? Or are you the only other sentient person left on this planet or something? Look, my candle is no good. It's cracked and shitty. If you walk away with it, the flame will last 5 days at best. But if you want it, kill me _first_ and take it, please. I’d rather be dead than cold.” He tapped the back of his head against the floor and sighed. “Look. If you _are_ compassionate, just kill me. I'm tired of thinking about how I fucked up bad enough to be the loser. I've done a damn good job surviving this long.”

Seto felt thorns in his lungs, and he hated that he wanted to let his guard down. His shoulder hurt. “You… that's _your_ lantern. The one you were born with. And all you want to do is live.”

The man sighed. “Something like that. Though I wish I was born like fifty years ago. Back when things weren't so fucking _terrible.”_

Silence, but Seto knew the day was passing and the sun would set any time. _Stupid._

“Uh.” Seto’s fingers felt clammy on the gun, and his shoulder was throbbing. “How about…”

The man glanced over at him. Raised his brow.

“How about, you bandage my wound, and I won’t kill you.”

“Hah. Why not do it yourself?”

“Because it’s getting late, the sun is going down soon. And, I think… it would be hard to bandage on my own, considering I have to do stitchwork and keep my other arm still so I don’t mess anything up.”

The man frowned. “Why trust me? I could-”

“I _know_ what you could do,” Seto spoke over him. “I don’t…” He closed his eyes. “I don’t care. If you kill me, whatever. You’re alone in the world again. You have a lantern, you don’t need mine. You don’t kill me, and… I can help you walk out of here at least. I have weapons, whereas you don’t.”

The man finally sat up. Looked at his hands, then to Seto. Laughed quietly. “You’re pretty damn lonely aren’t you?”

Seto rested his head against the doorway, thought of blood against his skin. “Aren’t you?”

“I guess.”

“I have a first aid kit in my backpack, it’s in the fitting room. Everything you need is in there.”

“Okay.”

After a few attempts, the man got up and limped his way towards the other store. Seto asked what he was doing, the man answered vaguely. He was sure that the man had simply left him there, until he remembered the cracked lantern behind him. He set it rightside up, and waited. Nearly fell asleep.  He was lost in drowsiness and pain, only jolted back to life when he felt a cold bottle pressed against his hand. He opened his eyes and looked at it.

“What’s this?”

“Liquor.” The man sat down next to him.

Seto looked at him clearly, now, and he seemed to be around the same age as himself. Long eyelashes. A few smudges of dirt and blood on his face. “Where the hell did you find that?”

The man smiled. “I looked really hard. Drink it, but not all of it. It’s still a bitch to find, so if you start chugging it I’ll lodge the bottle down your throat.”

“Don’t threaten me, I don’t care.” He lifted the bottle to his lips, and he didn’t notice his hand was shaking so bad _._ The drink tasted fucking awful, and he thought about how he was accepting poison from a stranger. But he didn’t care, because his shoulder hurt.

“Fair enough.” The man laughed. “You’re the second sane person I’ve met that was nicer than _I_ am.” He messed with the zipper on Seto’s new jacket, peeled it away from the wound slowly. “Though, I’ve only met a handful of sane people. So I guess I’m just an asshole.”

Seto looked over at him. Tried to ignore the throbbing of his shoulder, clenched his hands tightly instead. “Second sane person?”

The man just laughed again, but it was off. “Forget I mentioned it. I can’t get into the wound, so if it gets infected internally, I can’t really help that.”

“That’s fine.” Seto wanted to sleep. But everything hurt and he felt like his face was made of sagging lead.

The sun had certainly set by now, the shopping center was dark. But the clothing store was warm and it was bright because of the living lights. The man continued his work, washed the area out with a small water bottle. Did his best to disinfect the area before threading the needle he found in the first-aid kit. Before sticking it into irritated skin, he looked at Seto. “My name is Atem, by the way.” And then he started his work and the skin beneath flinched.

“My name is Seto,” he bit the inside of his cheek. Breathed through his nose. “Atem is… an interesting name.” He flinched when skin burned like fire. “Did you give it to yourself, or?”

Atem smiled faintly. “Nah, someone else gave it to me.” Atem barely knew what he was doing, he had never had a first-aid kit as nice as this one. “And yours? Did someone give it to you? The person that shared candlelight or whatever?”

“Nah, I gave it to myself.” Seto’s words slurred. He was tired. “The person who shared candlelight with me was an older man, I barely remember him. But he only woke me up so he’d have another lantern around. When I was an adolescent, he tried to kill me and take it. So I grabbed his lantern and threw it as far as I could and I ran away. He had given me a different name when he found me, but after that, I gave myself a new one. Huh. Haven’t seen him….” He had his eyes closed, he wanted to sleep.

“Haven’t seen him...?” Atem’s voice.

The needle hadn’t been in his skin for a while, and there was gauze being wrapped around his arm. The air was cold on his stomach. “Haven’t seen him since.” Seto swallowed nothing. “Sorry. Tired. I don’t think I’m going to make it back to my home tonight.” He chuckled, a small wheezy noise. “That sucks.”

Atem taped off the bandages, looked at Seto’s dazed expression. There were still dried specks of blood everywhere, and the hoodie he was wearing prior was soaked red. Seto must’ve been sensitive to blood loss, he looked pale. Atem was terrified of the unknown, and that is all he saw in the other man. He wanted to leave him here to die because he was scared, but he was lonely.

And he saw someone else when he saw how tired Seto looked, his pained breaths.

 

_“This hurts.”_

_“I know.”_

_“We still have three days until we reach the ocean.”_

_“I know.”_

_“...I wish you would just kill me. I don’t care if my soul turns to nothingness. I really don’t.”_

_“I care.”_

_“I’m going to end up hurting you. I don’t want to.”_

_“You won’t.”_

 

“I’m cold,” Seto said.

Atem gritted his teeth. Thought of _him,_ and he hated himself for wanting to let his guard down as much as Seto already had.

 

_“I’m cold.”_

_“I know.”_

_“...”_

_“What about the stargates? Don’t you want to go there?”_

_“There are no stargates, Atem. I’m going to die and my body will be taken by the Earth. I told them I was sorry, the Gods. But that wasn’t enough. The Gods are cruel and I was just being hopeful and selfish. I’m going to die, and that is it. The stars mean nothing now, they all turned their backs on us long ago. But they’re so bright, that I thought they were shining their faces at me. But Atem, it was just their backs. They’re looking at better possibilities and universes.”_

_“...It makes me sad hearing you talk like this.”_

_“Faces only smile in one direction.”_

_“They’re stars. They don’t have faces.”_

_“You’re right, Atem. Everything I’ve said was bullshit because I’m selfish and wanted something better out of my existence.”_

_“I’m sorry. I should’ve said nothing.”_

_“No, talk. I’m tired of hearing the bellows.”_

_“Bellows? From where?”_

_“The core. They want to grab my feet.”_

_“Oh.”_

_“‘Aaah!’ I’ll say. When they do grab my feet. You know.”_

_“I know.”_

_“Aaah! Haha.”_

_“...”_

_“I’m cold.”_

_“I wish this wasn’t happening.”_

_“Me either.”_

_“...”_

_“Don’t cry, Atem. Don’t do that. The soil doesn’t deserve your tears.”_

_“Sorry.”_

_“It’s okay.”_

_“Okay.”_

Atem hated feeling things. Hated remembering things. He always felt lonely.

But for all Atem knew, he and Seto were the last two humans on Earth that hadn’t gone cold. Maybe this was just the Gods playing pity. But the Gods were cruel.

“Okay,” Atem got up, supported himself against the wall. “It’s dark as hell outside, and if either one of us leave here, we are going to be spotted by every beast within a few miles. _Two_ lanterns leaving one place, hah. We might as well just scream at them to kill us and wave the lanterns around like candy.”  

“I’ve never had candy,” Seto said. Eyes closed.

Atem laughed quietly. “You’re a surprisingly nice person. Here, tell you what. I’m gonna take some clothing off off the racks-”

“No.”

Atem made his way over to the racks anyway. “Why not?”

“It took me forever to set this store up the way it is,” Seto breathed. Slid onto the floor, used his arm as a pillow.

“Geez,” Atem grabbed a few padded coats. “You _are_ soft.”

“I’m not soft.” Seto opened one eye, looked at Atem. “Just hopelessly longing for a better life that would only exist for me in the past.”

It was raining outside, the soft noise of drops against the roof.

“I guess we have that in common,” Atem replied. Took a few of the coats, laid them over the top of Seto’s body, folded another and tucked it under his head as a makeshift pillow. “Tell you what. Neither of us can leave here tonight, it’s too late. I’ll lock up the storefront, and we can just sleep in a pile of clothes. The store is already a wreck from the attack, anyway. But I need _one_ favor from you before you fall asleep.”

Seto didn’t want to move. “Hmmm?”

“I don’t wanna sleep in here with two dead men. Help me move them.”

“Hmmm.” Seto closed his eyes and pretended to ignore him.

Atem sighed, walked over to one of the bodies. “Fine, then. I’m going to fucking break my ankle over this probably, but whatever.”

A few minutes later, Atem managed to get them both just outside of where the store gate rolled down to the floor. “You owe me, those men smelled like shit.” He grabbed more clothing articles, soft cardigans. “You smell good though, for some reason. And your hair looks remarkably clean. Do you like, bathe and stuff?”

“Yeah.” Seto’s voice was quiet, breathy.

“Good, otherwise I’d be sleeping in another corner of the store.” Atem grabbed his lantern, thought to grab Seto’s too. Set them both close by. “I’m sleeping next to you, because, cold and stuff. Don’t kill me in my sleep or anything.” Everything felt terribly awkward, his brain screamed at him to be careful. But Seto was clearly incapable of plotting to kill him during the night, let alone sit up.

Atem turned his back to Seto, didn’t want to face him. Clothing separated their bodies from touching, and he was thankful. “Why do you trust me so much?”  

“I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

Seto felt like crying, but he knew it was because of the alcohol and the blood loss. His shoulder still hurt. “Do you have any family? Friends?”

It was quiet for a little while, and Seto nearly fell asleep.

“No,” Atem replied eventually. “I don’t. Not anymore.”

“Oh.”

Atem pulled a cardigan up, wrapped his hands in it for warmth. The lanterns casted shadows over everything and it looked frightening, so he closed his eyes. “Do you?”

“Yes. But he’s away,” Seto replied.

“Ah.”

They didn’t speak again, not for the rest of the night. The air was cold, and their bodies shivered. But it was okay, because both of them forgot how much warmer everything felt with another lantern around, another warm soul. Another warm body. The tiles of the floor didn’t seem as harsh, and at some point they both ended up in the middle of the fabric pile, Seto’s stomach radiating warmth against Atem’s jacket.

Atem would’ve pushed him back and told him to piss off, but comfort stuck them together like glue dusted with the will to live. That, and Seto was sleeping and Atem didn’t want to talk anymore, no, not aloud.

He thought about _him._

He would always talk to the other, in his mind.

But it was a vacant space, and the empty air of the store reminded him of that.

But he didn’t mind how close the sleeping body behind him was because he didn’t feel alone. He didn’t feel afraid of the silence because Seto was breathing lightly in his sleep. And maybe, just this once, he wouldn’t have another sleepless night when his brain couldn’t stop torturing his eyes. When he only saw black, so his imagination painted colors of misery. A staged play of agony and memories he wanted to forget.

He would tell Seto thank you in the morning, and thank him for letting him live.

Atem turned onto his side, faced Seto. Pushed him lightly with his fingers, until Seto rolled onto his back with a drowsy wine. “Sleep on your back, idiot.” Voice barely audible. “You’re going to rip your stitches and I’m not doing them again.”

Atem fell asleep thinking about how much he wanted to know about the stranger, because he spoken only to empty spaces now. Maybe that was worth the risk of death.

 

 


	3. Ironworks

 

* * *

 

[Seto](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LGs_vGt0MY8&list=PL3EWoTGbnTWamJ239YRo9QWFpiOlrOoJe&index=30)

 

* * *

  

The bright color of the ceiling seeped through Seto’s eyelids, and the brightness of _everything_ hurt. He was lying on his back, stomach feeling empty. His shoulder hurt and his head throbbed. “Wh…”

Yesterday. _Yesterday._

He thought of the man that attacked him. The feeling of the knife stabbing his skin. The lantern skidding past the tiles, visible from underneath the dressing room door.

Atem.

Seto looked to the side.

_Atem._

He was gone.

 _“Shit,”_ Seto sat up and it hurt. The gun, _the gun._ He was surprised to find that it was still next to his side, Atem didn’t take it. His lantern was there, too. The security gate at the front of the store was half open, sunlight graced everything. A face came into view from the side of the entryway.

“Yo.” Atem ducked under the gate, a large backpack on his shoulders. “I left my bag in the other store when that guy was trying to kill me.” He sat down next to the pile of fabrics, and stared at Seto’s disoriented face. “You feeling okay?”

“My head hurts really bad, but I’m okay.”

Atem started rifling through his bag, and Seto got up to grab a water bottle from his own. Walking was difficult, but he managed. It was the pressure of getting up that hurt, tension on the new stitches in his shoulder. He sat back down, and Atem had an open jar of pickled beets in his hand, a very antique looking fork in his hand.

Seto realized he was _really_ fucking hungry.

“Oh.” Atem stabbed a chunk of beet and ate it, then grabbed another fork out of his bag. Motioned it towards Seto. “Want some?”

Seto pursed his lips. “I… uh, I don’t know how to say this right, but… uh, why are you giving me food? That seems a little… generous.”

Atem shrugged. “Yeah, maybe.” He ate another piece. “Take it or leave it, it was more or less my way of saying thank you for not shooting me or anything. And being a relatively good person.”

Seto was still staring at him.

“You don’t _have_ to eat it-”

Seto grabbed the waiting fork from Atem’s hands and mumbled his thanks. Scooted closer to him.

Felt nervous. “So.” Curled his toes inwards, ate a piece of the pickled beets that were admittedly _fucking delicious._ Atem obviously had an interest in food, which Seto appreciated. He loved good food, but he was usually too tired to think about cuisine as anything but something that prevented him from starving to death. “What’s your plan after this?”

“Well,” Atem sighed. “I _was_ just out getting supplies yesterday. Trying to find a store that has packaged salt, I’m almost out. Then, I was going to get a new bucket. A bigger one.” He fished his fork around in the jar for another piece of food. “You see, I chose to locate myself somewhere with easy access to water. There’s that river nearby, and I managed to find a _really_ old house that has a working water pump right outside of it. But, I’m not getting as much water from it as I used to. I think I use it too often for the garden and bathing. So, I gotta start hauling water from that river instead. And use the pump for emergencies, or something. But I fixed up the house pretty good.” Atem laughed. “It went from being an _absolute_ piece of shit to just… shit.”

Seto nodded, probably. “Can I say something that’s a bit… honest and personal?”

Atem shrugged. “If you feel like it.”

“I don’t want to go home,” Seto said quietly. Looked at the fork his fingers held, all the clothing around him. “I… this is the first time I’ve talked to someone in four years. I’ve done nothing but survive since then. This has been… interesting, and the idea of returning to quiet days talking to nobody but myself until I inevitably die sounds awful. I’d rather die sooner, honestly.”

He didn’t want to look at the other man, he didn’t want to see how the Atem saw him- how Seto saw himself admitting weakness. Through another set of eyes, he saw a coward. And he let his mind, _Gods his brain was tired,_ playback scenes that would or wouldn’t exist.

_Atem smirked, grabbed the fork from Seto’s hand. “And you think I’d give up my resources for someone so needy? Look at you, begging for comfort. You’d only hold me back. Be your own burden.”_

_Atem smirked, grabbed the fork from Seto’s hand. “Off yourself, then. This world is too harsh for people that give up as easy as you do.”_

_Atem smirked, grabbed the fork from Seto’s hand. “It’s because you miss that little runt Mokuba, isn’t it? Sure, let me replace him. Let us see how many years I last before you let me die, eh?”_

_Atem smirked, grabbed the fork from Seto’s hand. “You don’t really think he’s still alive, do you?”_

Atem grabbed the fork from Seto’s hand. “Hey, calm down. You’re gonna open that gash in your shoulder if you keep on shaking like that.” He ate another piece of beet, then screwed the lid back on the jar. “I assume you’re saying you wanna like, team up and stuff? Even though trusting a stranger is _extremely_ dangerous?”

Seto shrugged. “Either I die alone and sad, or I have someone to talk to for a while and then you stab me in the back. Either way, we are both going to die eventually. I’d just rather not spend that time entirely in solitude.” He looked at Atem. “You talked as if you’ve had at least one other person around at some point.”

Atem frowned. “Yeah, I suppose I did.”

“Weren’t you happier then?”

Silence for a moment.

“Yeah, I was. _Before_ things got bad. But,” he looked at the tiles. “I don’t know. Losing someone hurts just as bad if not worse than being alone does.”

“So do you wish you never met the person? Never had anyone at all?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say _that.”_

“...”

 _“Geez,_ okay. I get it. Life is kinda better with some form of social interaction.” Atem got up, started picking up clothes. “How far away do you live from here?”

Seto got up too, but it was far less graceful. His shoulder and head hurt.

“A few miles.”

“Oh.” Atem was nice, and he started to hang up the clothing on racks, only stopping when Seto quietly said that an article belonged in another section. “Think you’re gonna make it without falling over?” He looked at the hoodie Seto was wearing yesterday, crumpled in flaking red on the floor. “You lost a surprising amount of blood yesterday. That guy got you good.”

“Maybe.” Seto did his best to put everything back the way it was, but _damn it_ he couldn’t move his other arm without shifting his shoulder too.

“How about this,” Atem said. “Come with me to my home. I’ll make sure you don’t like, die or whatever. I’ll show you all the cool vintage stuff I have. Like the guitar. It’s in _really_ good condition.”

Seto stopped moving, fingers holding soft and dusty cotton. “...Okay.”

“But, there’s a catch. You’re still a stranger in a very mean world, and I don’t know if I trust you being around all my shit and myself. So, as soon as you step in the door, you hand me your gun. If I catch you stealing anything or plotting something against me, I’ll shoot you.”

Seto swallowed nothing. “You do realize how valuable-”

“Don’t worry.” Atem smiled. “I’ll give the gun back as soon as you leave. Think of it as… I dunno. People used to do that in the past, y’know. Like, as a liability. They’d go somewhere and use something, but leave their ID, or cell phone or something with the person in the lobby so they couldn’t just steal and run.”

Seto started moving again. “Oh, really? I didn’t know that. Where did you find that out?”

“Books and magazines.”

“You have books?”

“Lots of ‘em.”

“Can… I read some of them?”

“You can _read?”_

“...Yeah. The person who woke me up taught me. He wasn’t a very nice man, but I have him to thank for that. Can you?”

“Yep. Hah. I’m a quick learner, it didn’t take me long. Learned a long time ago.”

“Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“I’ll come over.”  

“Geez,” Atem laughed. “Hah. Sounds like you’re like… a friend from school or something.”

“School sounded so nice.”

“Yeah. Hah.”

“... I have books too.”

“Aw, gee, could we be _‘study buddies?’”_

“You’re weird.”

“Haha. I think everyone is though, you know. There’s not enough people anymore to really tell what _normal_ looks like.”

“Yeah. I guess that’s true.”

They spent the rest of the early daylight organizing the store, trying to get everything to look as nice as it did when Seto initially walked in the day before. He frowned when he saw a bullet hole in the ceiling. He realized how cold it was, felt sad when he saw the brand new hoodie caked in blood. Found another identical one, but still felt bad for destroying an article of clothing so fast. Grabbed another shirt. Atem started looking through racks as well, laughed and looked at Seto.

“These clothing articles haven’t been owned by anyone in decades. Yet, I feel like if I take something I’m stealing from _you_ somehow.” He found a maroon sweater, dusted it off.

“No, you’re fine.” And Seto meant that, because he almost felt like he was shopping with a friend, like the happy people in the worn advertisements. He didn’t hate them so much anymore.

The bodies outside the store. Seto grabbed one wrist, pulling with his good arm, Atem grabbed the other wrist. They didn’t want to drag them down the escalators, so they put them in one of the freezers in the food court that was already full of rotted remains of food. Empty boxes where delicious pastries and other frozen goods had long since decayed into nothing. Winded and tired when they returned, they sat down for a moment before packing their bags to leave.  

“You _sure_ you want to come with me?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Just for the night.”

“Okay.”

They grabbed their bags, their lanterns, and they left. Talked, stepped over the broken glass where the front door had been broken into a long time ago.

Atem pulled out a map in astoundingly good condition.

Seto looked at it, pointed to a location south. “I live here.”

 _“Geez,_ you live in an old weapon hold? Nah, actually that’s pretty smart. Must’ve been hard to get into in the first place. It’s probably hard to get fresh air, though.”

“Yeah.”

“It would be kinda dark too.”

“Yeah.”

“And cold. Is that where you found your gun?”

“...”

“I mean, it wouldn’t be a secret, or anything. That was what that building was _for._ Weapons.”

“True.”

“I like your hair.”

“...What?”

“Your hair. It looks soft and well-kept.”

“Oh.” Seto kicked a rock as they walked through overgrown paths. “Thank you.”

“...”

“...”

“You don’t like _my_ hair?”

“What? Oh. I mean, it looks-”

“It’s ‘cause it has weird colors and stuff, huh?”

“No. It, um. It’s nice. Seems like you wash it, and stuff.”

“Of _course_ I do. See, we have so much in common.”

“Oh.”

“I like styling hair a lot. If we lived back _then,_ I would’ve been a barber, or something.”

“Oh.”

“Can I braid your hair?” Atem asked.

“...What? What does that mean?”

“Like. You separate it into sections and overlap them. It looks stupid on me, and I never let my hair get long enough to do it. Can I braid yours?”  

“As long as you don’t hurt it or _me_.”

“I won’t.”

They walked, and Seto felt hungry. Thought about pie.

Surrounding land turned to unkempt forest.

“...Today is my birthday. I’m 21.”

“Oh? Wow, you’ve been keeping track?”

“Yeah. I have a calendar.”

“Holy shit. Nice. I have no idea how old I am, hah. But based off of looks, I’d say I’m around your age, give or take a year. Though, I feel like I’ve been alive forever. Days drag on, you know. Darn, I wish _I_ had a calendar. Lucky bastard. What day is it, then?”

“October 25th. I think. I think I’m pretty spot on, but I could be technically off a few days, I don’t know.”

“Well, then. Happy birthday, Seto.”

“Thank you.”

“I wish I knew _my_ birthday.”

“Make a day up, then. Celebrate it every year. I mean… it’s not like people are… really _born,_ anymore.”

“Yeah, hah. True. Call it, uh… Happy wake-day.”

“That sounds weird.”

“Yeah, it does. I think I like birthday better.”  

The sun gave way to trees, tiny splotches of light littered the ground. Thick with mud and dirt, grass and pine needles.

The lanterns shined bright, Seto copied Atem when he unzipped his jacket and sheltered the light from view.

“What’re you-”

Atem pulled a switchblade from his pocket, looked ahead. “If I were you,” Atem said quieter than he was talking before, “I’d have your gun ready.”

“What?” Seto was confused, but he felt for his gun attached at his hips, anyway. “Why?”

“Nothing _likes_ to live out here because it’s a cold and dark passageway, but you never know. The lanterns are always bright and warm, so it’s good to be careful. Just keep your ears open, and your lantern close.

Seto nodded, he didn’t want to talk anymore. He was too tired to talk. The only thing he was thinking about at the moment was how Atem had a switchblade and never said a word about it.

They passed through, the only noises they heard were their own feet on the ground, the snapping of twigs. But Seto thought he would see _them,_ eyes bright in the forest, slobbering mouths and starved ribs. But there was nothing, except for a few small birds that flew from treetops and scared the shit out of both of them.  
Then, the trees cleared.

Seto’s eyes were wide, and he stopped walking.

_Blue. Blue,_

_Everything was blue._

 

__

 


	4. Ossuary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for wild imagined violence.  
> Sorry the update was so late this time. But all feedback is appreciated and loved. Thank you, enjoy.

 

“Cool, isn’t it?” Atem smiled at him. “I found this place a while back and located here. Something with the way the hills are positioned, it makes it very chilly here. _But,_ it is shaded as well. You know what that means? Nothing comes here, because why would they? Cold and dark. The bane of every mindless soul.”

Seto took it in, everything he saw.

The house was small, covered in trinkets and broken strings of lightbulbs. Metal shaped stars on the wooden walls,  a tiny porch to the front door. Seto could tell that old wood had caved at one point, and there was a thick sheet of metal in the doorway. A worn rug placed over the top. A very light pink plastic flamingo that was most likely bleached by the sun after years passed was in the garden. Seto had never seen anything that resembled a flamingo before. The water pump was not far off, next to a tall fenced area wrapped in barbed wire. Plants growing inside, a well kept garden. It was far enough away that the area wasn’t shadowed like the house, warm sunbathed leaves. So many decorations, tiny items. Seto felt like he was learning too much at once, the house became a detailed, colorful blur.

But the shade from the hill, it made everything blanketed in hues of blue.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

Seto thought he replied, but his mouth made no words. Eventually, he looked to see Atem looking back at him.

“Yeah,” he said eventually. “Yeah, it is.”

“I know it _looks_ like a big risk, you know, having such a low security house with all that shit out front. But, other than the two men from yesterday it didn’t really seem like there was any people left. Nor do I think they would make their way over here, anyway. No reason to. Plus, hah, most creatures now are too occupied with survival to think about stealing garden decorations and plastic chairs.”

Seto just looked.

Atem started speaking again, quieter now. Reminiscent. “But I figured I’d try to make myself a fun place to live. Reminds me of the better times.” He poked Seto’s arm. “Now if you tell _anyone_ about this place, I will make a personal effort to bite off each of your dumb fingers. I happen to like my home, and only _one_ other person has seen it and he’s dead now.”

Atem frowned. “He’s not dead because he ratted me out or anything, by the way. He was better than that. It was something else.”

Seto said nothing.

“But I didn’t kill him or anything.” Atem squeezed his eyes shut. Sighed. “Sorry, I’m terrible at talking. What I meant was, he died of other causes. But he lived here with me. I, um… have a tendency to speak faster than I can make sentences happen in my brain. So things just come out awful.”

Seto laughed quietly. He was still looking at the metal stars, a few were on the roof. At the front door. He could see a tiny statue of a cat next to the doorway, with a tiny plaque that said _“Welcome Home”_ around its neck. “Nah, that’s okay. I wouldn’t really say anyone nowadays is that good at socializing. I have the tendency to say too little.” He grinned, looked at Atem. “Considering you threw your lantern in the clothing store, I’d say you just _do_ faster than you can even make a plan.

Atem shrugged, started to walk forward. “Lantern still works, though.”

“I guess.”

They stopped at the front porch, when Atem turned to Seto and looked at him. Held out his hand expectantly.

“Oh.” Seto tensed his neck, hesitantly pulled his pistol from where holster on his hip. Placed it in Atem’s hand, and Atem closed his fingers around it slowly. Seto felt nervous, and his brain started doing what he hated most, but he couldn’t help it.

_Atem closed his fingers around it slowly, finger on the trigger, the others curling around the grip one by one. “You fucking idiot.”_

_And then he shot him in the head._

_Atem closed his fingers around it slowly, pointed the gun at Seto’s head. “You’re staying here, with me. Your lantern is nice, and it will keep me warm. Try to run and I’ll kill you.”_

_Atem closed his fingers around it slowly, and he killed him again._

_Atem closed_

“Hey. Like I said, I’ll give it back, don’t look so anxious.”

Seto blinked. Slowed his breathing. “Sorry.”

Atem held the gun loosely, reached in a pant pocket with his other hand and pulled out a small keyring. Not nearly as many as there were on Seto’s. “Wanna go inside?”

“Sure,” Seto replied. Atem unlocked the door, and it creaked open quietly.

They went inside, and Seto wanted to cry. He knew it was just a makeshift and torn recreation, but it was a _home._

Atem had a home.

A small staircase leading upstairs was beyond the doorway, to his left he saw a small entertainment room.

An old loveseat and a TV across from it. The TV itself was in good shape, only a small crack on the glass screen. A small piece of paper taped on the front, a handwritten message saying “OUT OF ORDER!“ Seto used to fix up old electronic devices in the past, and he wanted to fix this one too. Hell, maybe it already _could_ work. But everything came to the same conclusion: no electricity. A rug in the center, worn patterns of green, red, and off-white. A small desk, with an old electronic light. Seto restrained himself from immediately running over when he saw what looked like games, _board games,_ stored in a small glass cabinet under the desk. Art, there were art pieces hung up everywhere. Tiny porcelain cats sat on top of the desk, a few were sitting on top of the TV.

To the right, the hallway leading into the kitchen. Lights strung everywhere but none of them worked, obviously. It was the thought that counted. A closed door halfway down, bright details painted on the frame, but it was only on one side.

“Hah, yeah. That’s where I do art stuff. I decided to color the door frame with paint like an idiot, and didn’t realize how much I needed until I ran out. So… that project came to a screeching halt because I haven’t managed to find the same colors since then.”

Seto was looking at everything, meaningful and meaningless objects in every space. How Atem had brought them in, items that had spent more time collecting waste and only being touched by cold air than in the hands of the original owners. People from _then,_ people who bought such pleasantries because there was money, and there were rules. He wondered how happy they were, if such carefree lives were as exaggerated as his mind made them out to be.

“Uh... And, the bedroom upstairs. There’s a bathroom, but no working plumbing, so. Hah. Just a nice mirror and a bowl of water I keep for washing stuff and then dump it a few times or once a day, depending on how much clean water I have.”

“Ah.”

Atem looked at him, blank faced until he started to smile slightly. “You know, it’s really hard for me to not just show you every single possession I own and brag about it. And, you know. Pretend you’re like. A house guest, or something. Not that you _aren’t,_ but like. As if, you were just.” Atem shook his head, slightly. Turned and started to walk towards the kitchen, Seto followed. “Sorry. I’m being stupid.”

The kitchen was amazing. Baskets of small, but edible vegetables. Other canned goods that were supposedly still good, more water. A stovetop that seemed to be carved out below, a small plate underneath. A pot above.

Atem started talking again. “As you know, manmade fires don’t last long or do much anymore. So, I sometimes open the top hatch for my lantern, and use it to keep things warm. You know, for such a small flame, souls really do-”

“You know that can hurt you and shorten your life, right?”

Silence, and Atem’s smile faded. They started at each other, until Atem shrugged. “That’s just a myth.”

Seto didn’t want to push it. He didn’t need to ask questions, he already knew. Sometimes comfort and happiness were worth more than time spent alive and grey. He was already guilty of such acts; used to light cigarettes with candle flame when he was 17. Back when he used to play stupid games, tried to touch his life. Only stopped when one time he dared to wet his fingers and touch the flame, and his body was smoldering with such intense heat he thought he was burning alive with charred flaking flesh. Thought he was dead until the pain stopped a few hours later.

The lantern stayed shut indefinitely after that.

“Do you only have a mirror upstairs? I want to look at my shoulder and change the dressing.”

“That’s the best one I have.”

“Okay.”

Atem guided Seto upstairs, pointed out everything on the way. And Seto was just tired.

They walked into the bathroom, and it reminded Seto slightly of his own, but Atem’s mirror wasn’t as nice. A toothbrush holder in the shape of a clownfish, but there was a small chip on one of the fins.

“I just like to own happy stuff,” Atem defended when he saw Seto staring at it. “I don’t know.”

The bathroom was warm with the two lanterns, it was almost overwhelming and it made Seto’s wound burn. He unzipped his jacket, discarded his shirt, which although new, had a small spot of blood on it. _Damn it._ He reached over to the bandaging, tried to undo it the best he could until Atem spoke against his stubborn independence.

“You look like a dork trying to do this one-handed.”

Silence, Seto rested his arm at his side. Stared at himself in the mirror, how pale his face looked. The bags under his eyes. _Blue._

“Do you want help? I _did_ promise I wouldn’t let you die. Not tonight, at least.”

Seto looked at his hair, how the bun he had made yesterday morning was now a mess, strands of hair falling to his shoulder.

“That was a joke. About the tonight thing. As in, I’d have no reason to kill you later.” Atem felt nervous, bit his lip and watched Seto look vacant. “Hey.”

Seto was tired, and he started to recognize the warm pulsing of his shoulder wound, how it hurt. There was a bruise on his side, he didn’t remember how he got it. _Blue._

“Here,” Atem said. Placed his hands gently on Seto’s shoulders, and scooted him back until Seto’s legs hit the lid of the toilet. “Sit down. You look… _not_ good.”

Seto did as he said, tried to not react when he felt warmth from Atem’s hands. Someone else’s skin felt unfamiliar, he only remembered traces of how it felt. He wanted to sleep, everything hurt, and his mind was melting. He looked over onto the counter, the two bronze lanterns both crafted so intricately yet so differently. There were still splatters of wax on the inside of Atem’s lantern. The candle inside was shorter than Seto’s. “Your candle.”

“What about it? This might hurt while I’m unwrapping it, sorry.”

“It’s all messy.”

“Yeah, a little. I’ll clean it later. Your shoulder is really red, I might have some more antiseptics-”

“That’s your body. You’re losing blood.”

Atem was rifling through drawers, didn’t look at Seto. But that was okay, Seto was staring at the shadows casted by the flames. “And what do you mean by that?”

“The lantern is like your body, the candlewax is your flesh that holds your soul, which is the flame. And everything works fine, until you lose blood. Then the organs start to fail.”

“And _why,”_ Atem was starting to get irritated, Seto could tell by how harshly he dotted a clean wet cloth on his skin. “Do you give a shit about the condition of my lantern? You have _no_ idea who I am, or what kind of person I am.” Atem smeared a hydrogel on the wound, and Seto was almost afraid he was going to try and jab his finger into it. “And _what,_ makes _you_ think that I’m going to take shitty metaphorical advice from a weakened stranger I met yesterday that can barely find the fucking _strength_ to take care of himself?”

“Because we both have damaged bodies,” Seto said on an exhale, clenching and unclenching his hands to try and distract himself from the stinging. “You see mine,” Seto said, and then turned his head to look at the lanterns. Atem looked too. Cracked glass, speckles of white.

“I see yours.”  

The bathroom was silent, except for Seto’s harsh breathing.

“Shut up,” Atem muttered, and started to wrap new bandages around Seto’s shoulder. “I like the way you speak, you’re smart.” Atem glanced over at his candle again. Small, flickering flame. “But I don’t like it when people tell me things I already know.”

 

 


	5. Incompatible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief pause. 
> 
> Thank you Tristin for being my Yugi and helping take photos.  
> Comments are appreciated, I know this isn't a normal chapter so it is nice to hear feedback.   
> (The links are to relevant songs, as well as the playlist for this story)

[Feelings](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NG7edCtZ9nM&index=1&list=PL3EWoTGbnTWamJ239YRo9QWFpiOlrOoJe&t=0s)

 

 

 

[1979](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EdcGQfp6f6U&index=14&list=PL3EWoTGbnTWamJ239YRo9QWFpiOlrOoJe)

 

 

 

 

[Collateral](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=72eYpJLVZYM&list=PL3EWoTGbnTWamJ239YRo9QWFpiOlrOoJe&index=27)


	6. No Eyes

The sun had nearly set by the time Atem came back from the garden, he had given Seto enough questionable painkillers and alcohol to keep him grounded. The pickings were disappointing, but Atem wasn’t surprised. Nothing liked to grow here anyway. A small,  _ very  _ small and deformed onion, two small beets and a potato were all he brought back in a basket that was far too big. It made him feel bad, but it was okay. He put them in a bin of cold water, because the pump was deciding to work that day. 

Seto was curled up on the couch, half asleep and dazed. Eyes only open enough for him to see the rubix cube in his hands, which he had made little progress on. But he seemed to be doing the same thing over and over again.  

“You’re supposed to match the colors,” Atem said. Sat down next to him. But Seto didn’t seem to change his repetitive shifting of the blocks.  _ He has nice fingernails,  _ Atem thought. Looked at his own, which were short and broken. 

“Shhh,” Seto kept his eyes on the cube. Kept on moving his fingers. 

Atem watched, baffled when the colors started to match. A minute later when Seto’s hands had started to slow down from fatigue, the cube was set down. Solved.

Atem just looked at it. 

“There’s a pattern,” Seto said quietly. “You just have to follow the pattern.” 

“Wow.” Atem stared at it. “I haven’t been able to solve it. I got close a few times, but…  _ geez. _ He reached for it, but one of Seto’s hands shot out from under his blanket. He quickly started shuffling the blocks around, until it was thoroughly mixed once more.  _ Snickered like a child.  _

Set it back on the table. 

Atem furrowed his brow, glared at Seto. “You bitch.” 

“Now  _ you  _ do it,” Seto yawned. Closed his eyes. 

“Whatever. And to think I was going to give you something nice for your birthday.” 

Seto’s eyes opened. He forgot.  _ Mokuba. Pumpkin pie.  _ “Oh. How’d you know it was my birthday?” 

“You  _ told  _ me.” 

“Oh.” Seto rested his head against the armrest of the couch. “I didn’t do what I was supposed to.” 

“What were you supposed to do?”

Seto reached behind and pulled out the ponytail in his hair with his good arm. “I was supposed to find my little brother and make a pie.”

“Oh.” Atem didn’t say much more, he knew he didn’t need to. He remembered what wishful thinking sounded like. “Hold on.”  

Atem was gone long enough for Seto to nearly fall asleep, until he felt something firm against his hand, he thought it was his lantern. 

But it was a glass jar, something dark and thick inside. 

“What?” Seto struggled to pay attention, but he saw tiny seeds in the mixture.  

“When I was relocating here, I actually ended up finding a live blackberry bush. I’d never seen one before, so I picked as many as I could. I tried planting some when I got here, but… it didn’t work. I think. Hah. Never sprouted, but I still water the area just in case.” He smiled. “Wishful thinking. So I preserved some and made a kind of… jam.  _ But,  _ now that it’s open we got to eat all of it now, it won’t save or anything.” 

But Seto was just staring at the jar. Only moved when Atem put a spoon in his hand. 

“Happy birthday,” Atem said. “Or wakeday. Whatever. People used to have stuff like this with bread, but. You know. No bread.”

Seto unscrewed the lid the best he could, his hands felt like trying to shift a motion blur. Atem watched him, smiled. Waited. “It’s no pie. Sorry. But, things like this used to go  _ in  _ pies. Like cherry pies. Or apple pies. The closest thing I have to bread is… potato, probably. I’m sorry. Hah.” 

But Seto thought it was one of the best things he had ever eaten since he started living. It was so  _ sweet.  _ He blinked, took another bite. “This tastes like… what I thought candy would taste like. This is amazing.” And he knew it was because he was dizzy, because he was slipping down a landslide made of stress too fast into something he didn’t know. Or at least, something he forgot about.  _ Comfort,  _ and the sound of another voice. And the food tasted like memories he never had, but  _ God  _ he wanted them. 

“I mean, I know I’m good at the whole food thing but you don’t need to  _ cry.  _ Geez.” Atem’s cheeks were flushed, and he was messing with the Rubix Cube. 

Seto set down the jar on the small table next to the couch, and wiped away tears he didn’t know he made. “Thank you. For the blackberry stuff.” 

“Yup. I’m probably going to boil some potatoes for dinner, or something. I’ll give you one.”

Seto looked at Atem, everything looked blue now that the sun had set. Even Atem’s hair, his skin. His eyes. “Are you going to use your lantern?” 

Atem smiled, but it was fake and sarcastic. “Yep. Do you want a potato or not?” 

Seto closed his eyes. Understood everything. Fleeting life, moments here. In the blue, on an old couch. And he knew he couldn’t make everything that was  _ here  _ last forever, but he still wanted to feel everything while he could. “Put mine under the stove, too. The water should start to boil faster.” 

Atem paused. “I thought you were opposed to the whole using the lantern thing.”

Seto closed his eyes. Curled his fingers around the blanket he had, green in the low light. “I want a potato.” 

Silence. 

“Just don’t throw it or anything,” he added. 

Atem smiled, walked over to where the two lanterns burned together. 

Seto’s eyes were barely open, he saw the blurred passing of Atem’s sweater as he walked past.  _ Maroon.  _ He liked the contrast. And everything felt sort of okay, because his body was numb and fuzzy, and his skin felt like soft sand trying to sink into the couch, into the ground. Return to the warmth of the core. Become one with everything bright, all that was folded away within the sediment. “One more thing, for...” He felt brave, but his face felt warm and stupid. “For, um. My birthday.” 

Atem stopped, face illuminated by the lantern. Seto could see the creases in his clothing, where his fingers barely emerged from past the sleeves of his sweater. 

“You have  _ all  _ right to say no, but.” Seto squeezed his eyes shut, felt stupid. “I haven’t… been hugged in years.”

“... _ Hugged?  _ You… for your birthday, you want a  _ hug. _ ” 

Seto didn’t dare open his eyes. “You can say no. I know I’m a stranger. I get that. But.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know.” 

Nothing moved for a second, and Seto felt pitiful. Hoped that everything he felt would knock him to sleep. 

But he heard Atem sigh a moment later. “Well if that’s what you want, you gotta sit up. I’m not going to hug a ragdoll.” 

So Seto did, and he kept his eyes shut.

But that was okay, because he didn’t need to see.

_ Not now, _

Because he was stuck in a moment that felt like a lifetime.

He forgot what it felt like, to feel the warmth of another human. A simple thing, and it was what he was most envious of. Of the people in the past, he imagined it as if the memories were his. But they were merely inspired by the broken reel-to-reels he found, dusty photographs and broken billboards. 

_ Tennis shoes that were bought with money, by his parents sitting on the porch. They smiled, because he was their son. And the sun, it was bright with shades of orange and pink.  _

But Seto tried to not let the landscape look as beautiful as the paintings he saw, because then his daydream didn’t feel real anymore. He tried to make the brushstrokes disappear, but they only shifted. 

Maybe that was what happy clouds looked like.

_ And he loved them, the insects in the grass. Because they flew by like dust, but they were fleeting and everything wasn’t dead. Bandaids on his knees from when he fell, and he didn’t put them on himself. His mother did, because she could and she loved him. She always wore the same apron, and the smell of fresh scones in the oven wafted through the open windows.  _

_ And his mother always wore the same apron, _

_ He clung onto it when she held him in her arms.  _

_ The same patterns on her apron,  _

She was always wearing the same apron. 

Because she was just an image on a billboard promoting some brand of organic butter that Seto saw on the side of the road.

_ “Mokuba, look. The lady on that sign kinda looks like you. Like she could be your birth mom or something.”  _

_ “What? You’re crazy. How?” _

_ “Because she has fluffy black hair and interesting eyes like yours.”  _

_ “Nah, that lady wouldn’t be my mom. Hah.”  _

_ “Well, I know that. People aren’t born naturally anymore-”  _

_ “No, that’s not what I meant.” _

_ “Oh. What, then?”  _

_ “Because you’re my brother. So our mom would have to look like you too, haha.”  _

_ “Oh. But even if we weren’t related by birth, I think we would still be family.”  _

_ “You think so?” _

_ “Yeah. Because you’re my family now.”  _

_“Haha. I’m your only_ _choice,_ _Seto. You’re kinda stuck with me.”_

_ “True. What a burden I’ve ended up with. Heh.”  _

_ “Shut up, you love me. Haha.”  _

_ “Maybe.”  _

_ “Haha.” _

“Seto?” 

“Mokuba?” 

“What the hell is  _ Mokuba?”  _

Seto opened his eyes, and he was staring past Atem’s shoulder, at the old wooden staircase. He was resting his cheekbones on Atem’s sweater, but it was wet. 

And then he realized he had been crying on Atem’s shoulder for the last minute. His fingers were locked together around Atem’s back, and he didn’t want to let go. 

Everything would go cold, and he didn’t want to let go. 

There was another presence there, Atem’s hands awkwardly patting his back. Atem’s bangs barely tickling his neck because he was  _ so close. _

For just a moment, for the first time in years, Seto remembered what it felt like to be happy. 

“Are you… okay? You’re getting my shoulder all wet and gross.”

Fingers unlaced, and Seto sat back. Part of him wished he could just ask for another hug and remain the way they were infinitely, wished that would be his death. Or maybe the world would freeze over and they would be stuck that way.

“I’m okay.” 

Atem took his word, adjusted the hem of his sweater and grabbed his lantern “I’m gonna try and make something.” He started to head towards the kitchen, before Seto’s voice stopped him. 

“You can still use mine too, if you want.” 

“Okay.”

* * *

 

The water lost its grey tint and boiled within minutes, faster than Atem had ever seen. Nearly faster than it took him to scrub the dirt off the potatoes. But all he could think about was Seto. How he had crawled into his life and taken refuge on his couch.  And he didn’t know yet whether having Seto around was a burden or an extra layer of security, if his presence made him feel comfort or unease. 

_ Losing everything again would be too hard. _

But the presence of two lanterns, it was nostalgic. And he would enjoy it while it lasted. 

“Mokuba,” Atem mumbled to himself. Thought of things Seto had said earlier. 

_ “Do you have any family? Friends?” _

_ “No, I don’t. Not anymore.” _

_ “Oh.” _

_ “Do you?”  _

_ “Not anymore.” _

The tear stains on Atem’s sweater had long since dried, but he could still feel the presence of Seto’s shaking head and hear his raw sobs.

Atem thought of his own loss. 

_ The trip to the coast, tar and blood on leaves. The ocean, soft hair.  _

_ Fingers barely touching obsidian, and they took him.  _

“Where was my shoulder to cry on?” Atem watched the potatoes dance around in the bubbling water. 

_ Atem watched him from the sands, as the sins were expelled from the other one’s pores.  _

_ Clouded purple eyes looked back at him, and they looked more alive than they had in days.  _

_ But they were still dead, only filled with the wisps of life that depths underneath had leaked. _

_ Atem wished the ocean was orange. _

The house, their house. 

_ “It’s funny, isn’t it?” _

_ “What’s funny?” _

_ “That only you can paint the colors I see in my mind.”  _

_ “Well, thank you. I think.” _

_ “One day, we’ll find a way to step into the colors. I like them more than what I see here.”  _

_ “If you say so,”  _

Atem sighed. Wiped at his eyes with his sleeves. “If you say so.” 

He smiled. Watched the potatoes dance.

“Yugi.”

 

 

 

 


	7. Phaedra

_ Atem sighed. Wiped at his eyes with his sleeves. “If you say so.”  _

_ He smiled. Watched the potatoes dance. _

_ “Yugi.” _

  
  


The potatoes were done, and Atem garnished them with sea salt because that was all he had. 

It had been a year since he had made food for two. Lanterns in hand, he walked into the living room. 

But he stopped in the doorway, because the warmth he felt grabbed at his throat in the most comforting of ways, and he had never felt so  _ nostalgic,  _ but he knew that it was the dusted fragments of souls past that yearned for the feeling. But part of it,  _ some part of himself,  _ was comforted too because he was reminded of better days, days spent with  _ him.  _

The living room was dark, only illuminated softly by their lanterns, warm colored shadows casted off of everything. Seto was sleeping, blanket pulled tight around his shoulders. A book about rocket ships was on the floor next to him, he had probably tried to read it before it fell out of tired hands. His hair was sprawled about, and it looked  _ so  _ soft for some stupid reason. Atem  _ loved  _ hairstyling, but his own hair was always so unruly and messy. But Seto’s was almost  _ completely  _ smooth. 

“Hey,” Atem called out quietly. Set the lanterns down on the end table, nearly shook Seto’s shoulder until he remembered he was wounded. He settled on poking his cheek until Seto’s eyes opened. “Food. I made stuff, or whatever.” 

“Oh.” Seto sat up, eyes barely open. “I fell asleep.” 

“I know. Hah.” Atem got up, brought the food into the living room and they ate in the low light. 

Things were quiet, and they ran out of things to talk about after the dishes were cleaned, and they stood across from each other. 

So Atem toured him through the house once more, and Seto stopped walking in front of the half painted door. 

“You draw and stuff, right?”

Atem turned to walk upstairs. “Yeah, I guess. Nothing I draw is very interesting, though. Not worth looking at. Hah.” 

Seto frowned. Stared at the door. “Yeah, but. I haven’t seen, um. Handmade drawings that much before.”  

“No,” Atem replied, and Seto had never heard him sound so solemn. “I’d prefer, to uh. Not share my artwork with you.” 

“Oh.” Seto turned towards the hallway. “Okay.” 

Atem shrugged. “Sorry. It’s not anything against  _ you,  _ I’d just. Rather, uh.” He laughed, sort of. “Not. I don’t know. It’s just too personal.”  

“Okay,” Seto said. 

They stood there in the empty space, and everything felt dragged and cold.

“Uh. I know it’s uh. Kind of early. But I don’t really know what to do.” Atem looked around, laughed. “I’m not really used to having house guests.”

“You like games,” Seto replied. “Let’s play something.”    
“Like what?” 

Seto turned, went to grab his backpack that sat in the corner near the door. He pulled out a deck of cards and a small bag of worn playing chips, looked back at Atem. 

“Do you know how to play pinochle?”

“No.” 

“Want to learn?” 

“Why don’t we play one of  _ my  _ games?” 

Seto laughed, and Atem thought it sounded kind of nice. “Well, we could. But I’m still very dizzy. I don’t think I would be a quick learner in my current state. I know this game pretty well. But Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if you beat me on your first try.”

Atem took pity on him. “Oh, c’mon. You may be drugged up and wounded, but you’re not  _ that  _ dumb.” 

“We’ll see.” 

They spent the rest of the night with blankets around shoulders for warmth, lanterns illuminating the table. The small jar of blackberry jam was placed in the middle, along with the leftovers of potato that wasn’t initially eaten. 

Atem was reading the directions quietly. 

“So,” Seto said. “The point of the game is to win-”

“ _ Really.”  _

Seto sighed. “The point of the game is to win  _ tricks.” _

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. And, um. In this game-”

“Where are all the number cards?” 

“What?” 

Atem squinted at the piece of paper in his hands. “It says here that there are only face cards, aces, and tens and nines. What about the other numbers?”

Seto shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s just how this game is played.” 

“Okay.” 

“So, after we deal out the cards, the remaining card is flipped over. That suit is trump for the hand.” 

“What does that mean?” 

Seto sighed, grabbed the piece of paper from Atem’s hand. “I’m trying to  _ tell  _ you what it means, but you have to give me your undivided attention so you’ll have less questions later. It’s a little confusing at first, but the more you play, the easier it gets.” 

Atem slumped his shoulders like a child, and spread a tiny amount of jam onto a thin slice of potato. “I was reading that, you know.”

Seto smiled. “If you were reading it, then you wouldn’t need to ask so many questions.” 

“Pfft.” 

They were each other's company that night, small smiles and gleaming eyes in the dim light. 

The feeling that they both felt, it was mutual. But it was exclusive, because they felt like they had known one another far before they awoke on cold shores. That the souls and wax that they were crafted from were meant to be complementary, because  _ they had been before,  _ in another life. 

Atem supposed that was why he didn’t want Seto to leave,

And that was why Seto supposed he wanted to stay. 

Because they both knew that they would never feel like this again, from anyone else, until they returned to the depths. 

“I win,” Seto said as he stacked another blue chip on top of the small stack he had. 

Atem looked comically disgusted as he snatched the rule sheet off the table.  _ “What?  _ No way. I swear, I did better than  _ that- I mean…”  _  After he was done reading, he began counting through Seto’s chips. 

“1,000 points,” Seto almost sang _ ,  _ a small grin. 

“Whatever.” Atem picked at his nails. “I mean, it’s  _ your  _ game so I mean, you doing better and stuff, I guess it makes sense.” He pointed his finger at Seto.  _ “Next  _ time, though. I’ll win. Now that I know how to play, and all.” 

“Okay,” Seto said. He yawned, and started to pick up the cards and put them away. “I’m kind of getting tired, I think.” He thought of the night before, the cold shopping center. How much warmer things were when Atem was next to him, in the pile of fabric. But now, 

_ Now… _

“I can, um. If you have any warm blankets, I can just sleep on the couch, right?” 

_ “Hell  _ no,” Atem laughed. “That’s, like.  _ Very  _ far from my room. There’s a few things I don’t like about that.” He raised his index finger. “One, you’re too far away. If I’m clear upstairs, and you try to like, I don’t know. Steal shit and run, or plot something, I won’t wake up because I won’t hear it.” Middle finger. “Two, that couch  _ looks  _ comfortable, but let me tell you. Sleep on it for longer than an hour and your back is as good as broken.” Ring finger. “Three, I think it’s kind of… mutually beneficial to sleep close to each other.  _ One  _ candle will get you by, but I mean.” Atem paused, and that was the first time Seto saw him stutter. “You know how nice it feels to have another around, no amount of old ratty blankets can beat that feeling.” He put his hand down, grabbed the dishes and stacked them in the sink. “You can fix external coldness with blankets, but  _ internal…  _ no amount of blankets will fix that.” Washed everything. “Only living things. Only them.”

“Okay.” Silence between them, but it felt okay. “Thank you.”

There was something about being there, watching someone else get ready for bed that Seto didn’t realize he missed. He sat on the lid of the toilet and watched, 

Watched Atem’s eyes as they stared back into his own reflection. Watched him brush his teeth using the small basin he had for fresh water, but he was careful. Only used what he needed. Dirty water was thrown out. An awkward conversation about bathrooms, and to not stay out too long because the lantern attracted attention in the night. Atem made some bad jokes, and then they moved on. 

Atem changed into bedclothes in his room, Seto changed in the bathroom, and he remembered what it felt like to be alone again.  To only have one light illuminate the ceilings.

And he decided then that he didn’t want to leave. 

Seto brought no spare clothes, so Atem gave him the largest shirt he had. It was soft, a muted grey color. Polyester. Seto was significantly taller than Atem, so they had trouble finding anything that fit. He pulled it over his head, and left the bathroom. Down the small hallway, the bedroom door was open. Atem was already sitting up with his back against the headboard, comforter and layers of blankets pulled up to his waist. An additional blanket around his shoulders and a book in his hands. 

It was then that Seto felt closest to his mind, his view of what the world used to be like. Small hallways, white paint on the walls. Someone in bed, small shifts when bodies moved. The place he lived in now, the military base, it never felt like a home. He was protected, yes. Safe.

But it was never a home, just a reminder of all Seto didn’t know about the people of the past. The only time things felt okay were when Mokuba was around, but worse days scratched grey into memories, both those he wanted to lose and those he did not. And sometimes, he wondered if Mokuba ever existed at all. But he knew he did, because the area where he used to sleep was left untouched since the day he disappeared. Seto couldn’t bring himself to move anything.

He wanted to pretend that time merely froze, and Mokuba was walking alongside him on an unseen path. That day never ended, and Mokuba would come home. Seto wanted one more morning where he could nag at Mokuba that his bed was unkempt, and Mokuba would derail the subject like he always did.

“You can sleep here. Unless you’d prefer the floor.”

Seto looked at Atem again and he didn’t realize he was seeing another place for so long. He walked into the room, looked at the decorations. How everything was arranged, a queen sized bed. Identical nightstands, identical lamps that didn’t work. But there was something else, remnants that could only be felt through the floors, the walls. The worn sheets.  _ Oh,  _ Seto knew, that someone else used to sleep there. Two lanterns in a borrowed space, no, this was not the first instance.

“Okay.” Seto didn’t dare ask. But he could hear it, and he felt it in his throat. 

_ Laughter.  _

“Is something wrong?” Atem turned the page of his book, Seto knew because he heard the small noise of a thumb pushing against paper. He always loved it. “Or does this make you uncomfortable?” A small laugh. “It’s not like sleeping in the same bed is romantic, if that is what you’re worried about. Maybe in the past when people could  _ afford  _ separate beds and didn’t freeze to death in loneliness, but not now.”  

“No.” Seto set his lantern onto the nightstand, watched the flare dance inside of it. “Do you have anything we can cover the lanterns with? They’re kind of bright.” 

“No. As in, don’t cover them.” 

Seto frowned. “Why not?” 

Atem closed the book he was reading, turned to face the wall. “Don’t you remember what I said yesterday? I don’t like the dark.” 

“Ah.” Seto turned away from him, there was a small window towards the ceiling. Stars. 

It was quiet, and the light of the lanterns kept Seto awake. He thought Atem fell asleep already, but his voice proved his prediction wrong. 

“Are you afraid of anything?” 

Boxes were stacked against the wall, unnamed other than small strips of masking tape with numbers written on them. And Seto was sure now, that someone else used to live here. That his form was taking the place of another. 

That this bed was someone else’s refuge. 

He thought about death.

“I’m scared of the ocean.” 

“Oh,” Atem eventually replied. 

It was quiet again. 

“Goodnight,” Atem said.

“Okay.”

When Atem finally started breathing slowly in sleep, Seto got out of bed and placed his lantern next to Atem’s. Got back in bed, and closed his eyes to the dark. And though he couldn’t see candlelight anymore, he slept in a warmth he had forgotten about years ago.

 


	8. No Past Lives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, this chapter is a bit rough and has very vague mentions to attempted suicide.   
> Other than that, enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated.

Seto woke the next morning, early he supposed. The sun wasn’t out yet, but that was usual. It usually appeared midday.  It was funny, he thought, how nostalgic it felt when he rolled over to find that Atem had already gotten out of bed. He sighed and rolled over onto his back. The medication from the night before had worn off, and his shoulder throbbed. He prayed to every hidden God that the wound wouldn’t get infected. He lightly pressed two fingers to the bandages, and was relieved to find that the wound wasn’t warm. But maybe that was just because the room was cold. 

He got up, wrapped one of the many blankets around his shoulders. Walked downstairs. He knew Atem might be angry that he took it, but he didn't care. Atem would be sending him off today, and they would likely never cross paths again.

And that made Seto extremely sad.

So he took the risk, breathed in the scent of another human through worn fabric fibers. Atem was sitting on the old couch, reading. A book about different types of domestic cats. 

“Nice blanket.”

Seto shrugged. “Sorry, I-”

“Nah, it's fine.” Atem sat back. Put the book down, but he didn't mark his spot. “So. Heading back home, today?”

The question vibrated through Seto’s mind, and it made him feel sick. Feel old, and spent. 

Done.

Many things.

“I guess,” Seto replied quietly. Stood in the small living room because he didn't know where he belonged. He didn't realize how much Atem's house felt like  _ his  _ house, until Atem solidified the unspoken.

Now he felt like he was standing on wooden floors that never existed at all, that after he left this place the house would sink into Earth along with all its memories. Atem, too. He'd fall into Earth. And Seto, he'd feel his skin sag, and his bones would turn to brittle stone. He'd collapse at his doorstep, the old military base. Throw his lantern at one of those old missiles. Hope it blows up, blows up everything. 

_ Except for the calendar. _

Seto frowned. 

_ And Mokuba’s bed. _

“Okay,” Atem sounded irritated. Got up, came back with some old packaged food. Some sort of survival meal that Seto didn't understand. 

He wanted another potato.

And that blackberry stuff. The jam, yes. 

“I won't send you off starving. Think you'll make it back okay? Do you have a map? I can leave you with one if you don't. I'll mark where my house is.”

Seto didn't reply, not until a minute or two later when Atem sighed again, and picked up the book again about cats. 

“What are you going to do after I leave?”

Atem pondered. Turned a page. “I don't know. Same thing I always have done. Survive, and stuff.”

Seto looked at him. 

Atem saw tired blue eyes.

“Why do you survive?” Seto asked.

“I don't know. Because that's what I'm supposed to do.”

“Why?”

Atem furrowed his brow. “I said  _ I don't know. _ Because I don't want to die. Why are you asking so many questions?”

Seto held the blanket tighter, despite knowing he would look like a sick and weak child. He didn't care. It didn't matter. “I just wanted to know if your reasoning was similar to my own.”

“Oh? And what's your reason?”

“I want to be happy.” Seto paused, thought carefully before he continued. “I want to know what the future holds. I want to know if there are other people out there like me, like you, still. I still… I live to hope for the company of others.”  _ Gods,  _ his heart hurt. “I only ever had my brother. But he's missing. Has been for a while, now. I've been searching for him, for anything-  _ anyone _ left in this world that holds good and promises of hope.” 

Seto bit his lip. Felt stupid. 

So terribly stupid.

“And then I met you. You reminded me what happiness felt like. Losing that feeling,  _ again, _ and sleeping cold and alone again, I just…” Seto didn't want to cry. He didn't cry because crying was stupid, and he knew it would only make Atem dislike him more.

“I don't think I could keep going. Because… I feel like I would have given up on happiness. And that's the reason I survive.”

More silence. But it felt worse now, because Seto's words hung thick in the cold air.

Atem spoke slowly, enunciated every word.

“You want to  _ stay  _ here. With me.  _ Live _ with me.”

“I don't know,” Seto replied.

“You do.”

“Yes.” 

“Because you think I'll bring you happiness.” 

Seto thought of pinochle. Blackberries, the tiny window in the bedroom. “You looked happy too.” 

Atem looked at something else, anything. The dust on the TV. He didn’t want to look at Seto’s eyes, they made him feel terrible, terrible things. A familiar feeling, and he hated it.

It ate at his organs for weeks, reminded him of ocean air and death. 

And it was the cracks in his lantern, when he threw it at the wall a few nights after he returned home from sending Yugi to the core. 

 

_ He didn’t recall when he woke, only remembered staring at the dust on the floor as the daylight went away. Hours had passed, he assumed. Everything hurt, and he hated it. But somehow, it felt nicer than the agony that exited his body as bile when he cried too hard. Slowly, he rose to his feet. Shaking.  _

_ Sure enough, the lantern was lying on its side, next to Yugi’s sweater that was still on the floor from the day before the trip to the ocean. Atem picked it up, watched the tiny fire burn.  _

_ When he rotated his wrist and the lantern turned in motion, he saw the irreversible damage.  _

_ A crack in the glass casing had formed, from top to bottom. It split off into smaller designs of pain, and it looked ugly.   _

_ He held the ugly thing, and he cried. Set it down on the nightstand, Yugi’s nightstand.  _

_ Put on Yugi’s sweater because it still smelled like him, picked up the ugly thing.  _

_ Cried. _

_ Thought of words Yugi had spoken. _

 

_ “Life is like a ribbon, you know. One of those beautiful silk ribbons you see on pretty dresses.  _

_ The hands in the ocean, they hold onto one end. The other end is tied around your wrist. And when it’s time to go, they’ll pull it in so they can give the ribbon to a new person. But if you cut the ribbon yourself, you no longer have a guide home. You’d wander around, lost and sad, and the hands in the ocean are left with a shorter ribbon. Whoever receives that ribbon has to return sooner than everyone else. That’s sad isn’t it?” _

 

_ Atem cried, he told Yugi he was sorry. But he wasn’t there, so the best he could do was speak through the fibers in his sweater.  _

_ “I’m sorry. Gods, I’m so sorry. I just miss you.” He smiled, despite himself. “I miss you, that’s all.”  _

_ And he felt ashamed, because he loved Yugi’s words.  _

_ He felt ashamed because if those words were true, then Yugi’s ribbon was cut short.  _

_ Atem had nearly cut his own, and would leave the person after him with a life barely longer than Yugi’s.  _

_ “I’ll do my best. I’ll do my best, okay?” His fingers traced the small frays that Yugi had created when he picked at the sleeves of his sweater. “I’ll do my best.” _

 

“Are you okay? It looks like… are you crying?” 

Seto’s voice. 

Atem opened his eyes once he realized they’d been shut, and he rubbed at his eyelids with his fingers. “No. Go, Seto. It was nice meeting you.” He hated the words that he was speaking. 

But he hated the loss of a loved one more. 

Silence, and Atem knew that if he looked at Seto’s face, he would see nothing but hurt. 

_ But that was how it was,  _

_ Seto was always hurting in ways that were visible,  _

_ Atem harbored all his pain in his soul, _

_ They both hurt just the same. _

 

The lanterns were there, Atem’s on the table. Seto’s was on the nightstand upstairs. 

But the living room felt so cold. 

  
  
  


“...Okay.” 

  
  
  


Atem didn’t dare look, he kept his eyes shut. He only wished he could will himself to be deaf as well, because he didn’t want to hear the rustle of Seto picking up his backpack. The sound of his feet when he walked up the old wooden stairs. 

He didn’t want to feel, because he felt the warmth of Seto’s lantern drawing nearer. 

He didn’t want to say anything he’d regret when the front door opened. The wind blew in, and Atem remembered what the cold felt like. 

 

But when the door shut,  _ Gods,  _ Atem cried. He cried, muffled through the blanket Seto left folded on the loveseat. 

He remembered what it was like to smell the scent of a person who left through thin fibers. 

And he also remembered that he never gave Seto’s gun back. 

* * *

 

It took everything left in Seto's heart to not look back at Atem's home. At all the tiny things, there, in the yard. The plastic flamingo. He tried not to think about how much colder it felt when he couldn't feel Atem's warmth anymore. 

The ground was wet and muddy, it must have rained the night before. When he was sleeping in Atem's bed. He stepped over a rotted log, and his ears felt numb and cold. 

He remembered Atem's words when they entered the woods, about the beasts. Atem's knife.

Seto stopped walking.  _ The gun. _

Contemplated. Started walking again. 

“Oh well.” 

He was too scared to go back. He didn't want to hurt anymore. The exit to the forest was near, but Seto felt like sitting down. A flat stone nearby was enough. Home was far away, and he was tired. 

Seto closed his eyes. His throat hurt. Eventually, tears touched his cheek when lips parted. “I'm so tired.” 

His reason to live, and his hope for the future was painfully ripped away from him again. He decided, then maybe, he wasn't meant to be happy. Maybe people were meant to be cold, and all the nice people had died years ago. Everything terrible had eaten them, and the ocean grabbed them by their hands and led them somewhere better. 

Seto put his head in his hands, and his shoulder hurt.

“I'm so tired.” He frowned, pressed his palms into his cheekbones. “I'm tired.” 

“Sweep me off my feet.” He wished it would rain. “Tell Mokuba I said ‘make your bed.’” He laughed but he was miserable. “Tell Atem he makes nice food, I like his house, and build him a mailbox. Then, send him a letter explaining how to solve a rubik's cube.” He tried to laugh, but nothing came out except for a shiver when the wind blew. “Draw a tiny picture of a cat on the envelope.” 

He didn't know who he was talking to, or why he was talking aloud at all. He thought about it for a while, and came to the conclusion that he was hoping Gods existed and that they would listen to his pitiful requests. 

Or maybe he wanted to speak to a God because he wanted company, and nothing mortal seemed to desire the same.

The air felt thick and cold, and it kept him anchored there, and he was sure that  _ every  _ part of his body was too heavy to move. He thought, maybe, he’d just stay like this. 

And things would be okay. 

Lantern set in front of him, resting between his shoes. 

 

It felt like a lifetime, there, as he felt warmth on his back and light casted on the dead leaves around him. The world was blessed with yet another morning. Another day of sunlight, and Seto didn’t want to be around on the first day that night consumed day entirely. 

But there was something else, familiar warmth that didn’t come from the sun, it came from the core of the Earth. Footsteps followed, hasty and loud. Seto didn’t want to look, so he kept his head in his hands and closed his eyes. 

_ “Seto! I finally found you. I decided that your time with me was nice, I want you to stay.” _

_ “Seto, stand up. Give me your lantern, I'll give you a chance to run before I start shooting.” _

_ “Seto, I missed you. Brother.” _

Instead, he felt warmth in his heart as footsteps drew closer. Kept his eyes downcast, even when he felt a hand on his shoulder. 

_ And oh, he knew.  _ Joy constricted his stomach, but he gritted his teeth and kept himself still. 

“I, uh. I forgot to give you your gun.”

Seto felt dead. 

“Oh.” 

Atem sighed, and knelt in front of him. Seto knew, because through his blurry vision of teary eyes, he saw Atem’s worn boots. 

“And, um. I didn’t show you my guitar. It was in the art room and I forgot.” 

Seto felt his throat burn, and he hated that he was going to cry. 

“And…”

Brief silence, and Seto didn’t talk. He knew he would cry, and he didn’t want his voice to reflect that. 

“I’m…” Atem laughed, but it was awkward.  _ Everything was.  _ “I figured you’d need some help carrying stuff back from your place. I hope you have a wagon, or something. It’s a long walk.” 

Seto lifted his head despite himself, despite the obvious reddened tint on his cheeks and nose from crying. 

But Atem, too. He was pursing his lips, trying to smile but  _ Gods,  _ crying was stupid. 

His voice wavered when he spoke.

“Gods, Seto, I’m so sorry.” 

And he knelt down, and hugged Seto. 

“I’m so sorry.”

Seto tucked his face into the crook of Atem’s neck, and his fingers curled into Atem’s coat.

Atem matched his gesture the same, but his hands were light on Seto’s back. He didn’t want to disturb the bandages he knew were underneath his clothing. 

And they both cried as quietly as they could. 

Remained that way for a minute, but an hour would have been fine too. 

Only for the sake of daylight, they separated. 

It was time to go. 

Seto’s voice was quiet. “I thought…” He took Atem’s hand when he helped him stand, replaced the warmth with the handle of his lantern soon after. And they began to walk towards the exit of the forest. “I thought you didn’t want me to live with you.”

“Nah, it's not really... “ He shrugged. “It’s not really a matter of  _ want,  _ as much as it is  _ risk. _ ” 

Seto said nothing, so Atem continued.

“I’m sure you noticed that someone else used to live with me.” He chuckled to keep himself feeling okay, looked towards the sun splotches that graced dead leaves. “I’ve mentioned him a few times. His name was Yugi. And he was and still  _ is…  _ my favorite person- no, he was my favorite  _ anything ever.  _ But, he, uh. He’s gone, you know. Losing him was the most,  _ Gods,  _ the most emotionally and mentally crippling experience I can fathom.” He shrugged. Wondered what Yugi would say about the colors of the leaves. “I just. You’re… you’re really nice. I mean, I barely know you. But, I don’t want to… I don’t want to  _ ever  _ experience anything like that again. It was a while ago now, and I still feel remnants of that sadness in the pit of my stomach at least once a day. Hah. Like, right now, I guess.” 

“Closeness with another human is a liability,” Seto said. 

Atem looked at him, and Seto was looking forward. His eyes always looked so  _ tired,  _ but Atem liked them anyway. 

“Yeah. Something like that.” 

“I understand. I miss my brother. But… I’m still looking.” A small smile. “He’s strong, and he always has been. I know he’s out there.” 

“How long has it been?” 

“Four years,” Seto replied after contemplation and hesitance. 

“Oh. And you still believe he’s out there?” 

“Yes.”

“Okay.” 

They didn’t talk, because it was hard. They both decided to converse again once they stepped out into the light, and the sun graced their faces. The sun was already high in the sky, and it was concerning. But once they found the road, everything would be okay. 

The shopping mall was in the far distance, and they headed towards Seto’s home. 

Eventually, their feet found pavement. 

“So,” Atem said. “You know how you asked me why I survive?” 

“Yes.” 

Atem smiled. “I think Yugi would’ve given the same answer as you did, though he tended to abstract his thoughts out into an hour long elaboration. He always prioritized experiences over time or risk. I think he’d prefer to be happy with a short life, versus miserable with a long life.” He laughed. “Besides, this world is a shithole, who would  _ want  _ to live that long by their lonesome?” 

Seto laughed too, and Atem thought it sounded nice. “ _ You _ do, apparently.” 

“Hah. Shut up. But, that’s one of the things I admired most about him. Wanting to be happy while living. And, I guess I always tried to be like that, too. But losing him, just…  all I can remember was the pain, and I forgot how happy I was during the times I had with him.”

“And you think the happy times were worth it?” 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so. Hah. I came to that conclusion after seeing you seek the thing that I had forgotten about. Just, you know. Trying to be happy.” 

“Oh. That’s good.”

“Yeah.” 

“...I’m glad you changed your mind.” 

“Me too.”


	9. Earth Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a little lengthy to make up for how long it has been since I last uploaded.   
> Warning for mild violence.

The sun was well into the sky by the time they made it to Seto’s home. It was the same as he left it, though he couldn’t imagine why anyone or anything would want to live where he did- though the weapons and security were nice. 

But it was just  _ so damn depressing. _

Through door and door, hatch and hatch, they made it into the space that Seto called his own. 

“You…  _ live  _ here?”

Seto shrugged. “Yeah.” 

But they both knew, 

There was a humbling sense of life there, in the walls. 

Though the cement ceilings were dark and desolate, a thin sheet of warmth covered more surfaces than dust. 

They walked through a small entryway, the door was busted open and unmovable. A small bed was in the corner, sheets and blankets tucked neatly. A small grated crate that served as a nightstand, books stacked on top in alphabetical order. A map of the world taped on the wall. Above, a map of the universe. 

A few other knick knacks placed in an organized fashion, clothes hung on a sturdy wire. Pieces of paper, a journal. A tiny rocket ship model, dented and broken. Atem, he sort of liked Seto’s room. A small retreat in a labyrinth of stone and death. 

“This isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Hah.” 

“Oh,” Seto replied. “This is my room, I guess. Mokuba’s room is over there.” 

“Huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

Seto let him look, but said that he wanted everything to remain untouched, the way Mokuba left it the last time he exited the door. 

Atem asked how Mokuba would get in or why he would stay if Seto wasn’t there, in the case that he actually returned. Seto shrugged, and they moved on. Packed meaningful and meaningless items into the roller crate they would leave with. Clothes, books, small things. Journal entries. Directions on how to solve a Rubik's cube. A few games. 

The last thing left was the calendar on his wall, he rolled it carefully and placed it on top. 

“It’s the 26th of October today.”

“Neat,” Atem replied.

The mirror was the only thing that Seto wanted to bring but couldn’t. So he stared at his reflection, his eyes. 

_ Blue. _ They looked more tired than usual, and his face was a bit paler. But he assumed it was because of his injury. 

“Nice mirror,” Atem said. And he stepped next to him, looked into the reflection. 

Seto was happy for a moment, because there was another color there,  _ red _ , as Atem stood next to him. 

He frowned despite himself, out of embarrassment probably. “I… Do you mind if I do something?” 

Atem looked at Seto’s eyes, through the reflection. “Uh, sure. As long as it’s not  _ too  _ weird, or something.” 

Seto swallowed nothing, and found bravery somewhere in his depths. The part of him that craved contentedness and a feeling of completion. 

He wrapped an arm around Atem’s waist, and looked at the mirror. At both of them, at Atem’s slight shift. 

Seto imagined, then, that he had a family. That he had friends, and that he wasn’t standing in an abandoned weapon hold. That this was a home, and the world had never fallen apart. 

That the Gods never forsake humans for being foolish. 

“I’m going to work,” Seto wanted to say. 

“I’ll see you in the evening,” Seto wanted to say as he grabbed his wallet with money that meant anything at all, and he drove away in his car that ran off of gasoline and battery power. 

“You’re kind of odd, you know that?” 

Seto looked down, at Atem’s eyes.  _ Red _ . 

_ And he found another favorite color.  _

“So are you,” Seto replied. He replaced his hands at his side, and thanked Atem for the brief moment he allowed him to play pretend. 

The last stop they made was through a small hallway that lead to an  _ enormous  _ dome-shaped room full of all sorts of weapons and bombs. 

Atem looked at the broken technologies, at the dusty hazard warnings. “This is why the Gods don’t like us anymore.” 

“Probably.”

Seto looked at Atem briefly, then started rifling through a rectangular steel chest. “Do you have my gun with you?”

“Oh. Yeah.” 

Seto found spare bullets, brought them all. Figured he would be kind and bring a few more portable weapons, a pistol for Atem to carry as well. 

“If we ever need more, we can come back.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Are you ready?”

“Yeah.”

But they stopped one last time, so Seto could look into Mokuba’s room. He asked Atem to wait outside, wanted to be alone for the first time that he could remember. 

Everything in the room was as still and cold as Seto had left it, as still and cold as Mokuba had left it that morning. But Seto broke his promise, just for a second, and he knelt down in front of the worn mattress. He rested his elbows on the cold unkempt blanket, the white one that Mokuba loves most. 

For the first time, Seto prayed to the Gods. He didn’t know if he was doing it right, or if any God would hear him at all. If the Gods had ever existed, that maybe there wasn’t a chance for redemption and it was simply that humans had ruined everything and there was no mortal way to return things back to normal. 

But he didn’t care, he prayed to the Gods with eyes closed and fingers laced that Mokuba would come home and find him. He had one last thought before he left the room, he grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil. Left a note on Mokuba’s pillow. 

 

_ Mokuba,  _

 

_ Welcome home. I have moved addresses, but you can come find me here.  _

 

A badly drawn but effective map and route from Seto’s home to Atem’s. 

 

_ Stay on the road and you’ll make it safe. It is only about a two hour walk, so leave at sunrise. Pack food and be safe, I hope you made it here okay, and that the world has been kind to you. I love you dearly and miss you.  _

 

Seto tried not to cry or give himself false hope that Mokuba would read the letter as soon as he wished for. 

 

_ Best regards from your brother. I love you. I hope you’ve been combing your hair and brushing your teeth. But above all, I hope you are safe and happy.  _

 

_ Seto _

 

But he left the note a secret, and didn’t tell Atem he left it there. He knew Atem would joke, and he was tired of feeling hopeless. 

 

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah.” 

“Okay.”

 

They took turns lugging the cart, because Seto’s shoulder could only handle so much strain. The day was soon passing to night, and the sun rolled through the sky faster than they both remembered. But that was the way it was, and the Gods punished them all. The road shined the colors of the sun, and it was starting to get cold out. 

“Hm,” Seto hummed. Continued to sing nameless songs, and Atem pretended he was quieter. 

But Seto was somewhere else, because his heart was happy. 

The roads felt purple, and the skies felt blue.

He supposed it was because the colors were unnatural, and he felt everything that wasn’t bleak. And those were such unnatural colors, because all he ever knew was the monochromatic world contrasted by the tiny flame that shifted between hues of red and yellow. 

Now, everything felt happy and purple. And sometimes he saw his favorite color, too. But there was also red, and it was Atem. 

Seto smiled. “Colors,” he said. “Colors.”

“What?” 

“Nothing.”   
“Okay.”

By the time they were nearly off the road, the colors went away. Night came, and Atem frowned and stayed close. It was his turn to hold the wagon, and he was walking faster than before. 

“Is something wrong?”

“It’s dark out.”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Let’s hurry.”

“Okay.”

Atem remained serious, lips pursed and eyes wide against the dark. Constantly shifting at any noise, and only stopping to cover the lanterns with one of Seto’s blankets. 

“To keep others from seeing or feeling them as well.” 

“Oh.”

They walked faster, faster when they heard noises. Footsteps, teeth chattering and painful muttering. Then, they stopped and hid behind one of the tall trees at the entrance of the forest. They both held guns. 

“Gods,” Atem whispered. “Gods, I don’t want to die here.”

Seto wanted to say ‘you won't,’ but he felt that talking was a bad idea. So he reached with an empty hand and held Atem’s. It was shaking violently, and he had never seen Atem so afraid.

Footsteps drew nearer, and Seto had a new idea. Guns were loud, he knew. And it was too quiet. 

He put a finger in front of his lips, and told Atem to be quiet. Grabbed a knife from the wagon, a long one. Then, it was time, because they were found. 

“Mine,” the voice spoke. Cold, Atem and Seto heard the chattering teeth. “Mine.” 

They waited until the steps drew near, so near. Seto kicked the wagon and it rolled out from beside them and towards the cold man, and the footsteps shifted. 

_ Seto saw him,  _ he saw him. 

And he felt bad.

The cold person had jackets layered, blankets tied around shaking shoulders. But he seemed to be a man in his mid-20’s, somewhere around Seto’s own age. He was a scrawny, tired looking thing, that appeared to have gone cold quite some time ago. Seto could tell, because he saw tar-like residue stained on his hands. 

But he kept on moving, because he was happy it wasn’t Mokuba. 

The man knelt down to unravel Atem and Seto’s lanterns from the blanket they were wrapped in, and he was laughing quietly. 

_ Bliss. _

Seto felt bad, because he rarely heard anyone laugh. But he got up slowly nonetheless, tried not to make noise. The man’s back was turned to them. As soon as the man finally got a taste of warmth with hands pressed to finely crafted bronze and light filled the forest clearing, Seto lurched forward and drove the knife into the man’s neck. But he quickly shifted the man sideways because he didn’t want to get blood all over the wagon and his blankets. The man only put up a fight in reaction to shock, and it didn’t last long. 

Everything felt too quiet. 

There was no screaming, only the shouting in Seto’s mind and the thumping of his heart that threatened to come up as vomit if he spoke. 

And for what felt like a lifetime, Seto stared at the body of the man. 

He hated this.

He hated this so much. 

But he was strong, and that was why he was alive and he carried the fire still. 

Eventually Atem’s hands were close, and they grabbed the knife from Seto’s. 

Wiped blood off in nearby dirt and dead wood. 

Without a word, Atem wrapped the lanterns back up in the blanket. They ignored the tiny blood stains. Then, they got up and kept on moving. Minutes passed slowly. Didn’t speak until the house came into view, until they knew that they weren’t being followed and the front door was shut. 

Everything still felt cold.  

They stood there, in the front door. Facing each other, but not looking. Atem pursed his lips, played with his fingernails. 

“I’m sorry, uh. That I got kinda freaked out back there. I just, don’t do well with the dark, I guess.” 

Seto was relatively expressionless as he unraveled the lanterns from the blanket. He placed his own in his hands, warmed his fingertips with the candle’s heat. Felt bad for the man that he killed. “It’s okay. I…” Seto swallowed nothing. Watched the tiny flame dance. “I’ve had to kill quite a few people. To survive. I’m sure you have too. But I’ve never… had to kill someone that was the same age as me. It was just… sad. I saw a bit of myself in him, and I saw Mokuba too. But it wasn’t either of us. Just a cold person.” 

“Oh.” Atem felt terrible. “I wish that I could’ve helped. I would have killed him if not for… me being stupid. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. Someone had to.”

“...”

“...”

“Yugi was around our age, too.”

“Was he?” 

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Minutes passed and neither spoke, until Seto got up and started rifling through the wagon. Eventually, he pulled out a worn notebook. Started reading from it. 

“Hey, did you know that the first electric generator in Hoover Dam went into operation on this same day in 1936?” 

Atem frowned. “No. What’s Hoover Dam?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh.”

Seto replaced the notebook, grabbed a blanket and sat on the couch. Atem left, and Seto wondered if everything was too depressing to share the same room together. But it wasn’t, because Atem came back with a jar in his hands. Two forks. Seto looked over. Pickled beets. 

“You want some?” 

“Sure.” Seto did his best to smile. “Thank you.”

They sat there, in the quiet and ate. When empty jars got set aside, there was more silence. Eventually, Seto’s bandages were changed and Atem was kind enough to give him a bit more alcohol and took some for himself. Back downstairs, they drank warm water and pretended it was tea, blankets were tucked in both of their laps. Seto was staring at nothing, eyes heavy and threatening sleep. 

But Atem, he was staring at the door of the art room from across the hallway. Mind full of everything. Of an hour before, when they were leaning against that tree at the entrance of the heavy woods. 

Then he spoke. 

“You know… I kind of liked that, um.” Swallowed nothing. “Thing, back there. That you did.”  _ Embarrassing.  _

Seto frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You know.” Atem stared at his own hands, the dirt underneath his nails. “When that person was attacking us, and I got scared.” 

Seto looked at him, confused. “You mean, you like how I  _ killed  _ him?”

“ _ No,  _ no.”  _ This was all wrong.  _ “No, of course not. Uh. Just, the other thing you did. When you, I don’t know. When you did the thing.” He shrugged. Thought of things better left unmentioned because they were of times that passed long ago. “The hand thing.” 

He sighed. Felt warm and stupid. 

“...You held my hand.” 

_ “Oh,” _ Seto replied. But he sounded off. And Atem would’ve felt weird if not for the small smile on Seto’s face. “Yeah. That thing. I’m just not used to seeing you look so scared. Granted, we haven’t known each other that long. But I just wanted to comfort you somehow and that was the first thing I thought of.”

Quiet, and the lanterns burned softly. Everything, for once, felt soft. 

And they sat so close. 

Atem gritted his teeth, and he felt lonely. 

Seto waited for Atem to speak, and he felt lonely. 

“Do you want to do it again?” Atem asked.

“...Hold hands?”

“Yeah.”

Seto didn’t reply, he just smiled again. Let his hand drift towards Atem’s, and warm fingers met warm fingers. Slowly, they laced together, they both acknowledged the feeling of fingernails sliding by skin, the pads of their fingers brushing against knuckles. 

Atem’s thumb brushed over the top of Seto’s hand, and nothing felt better. 

“I saw people do this in magazines, and stuff,” Seto said.

“Me too.”

“...I like it.” 

“Me too.”

And they spent the night relishing in the warmth of each other, of another human. 


	10. Inter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big chapter this time, lots of eventful messes.  
> Thank you for all the comments last week, I absolutely love feedback. Means a lot.

_It was days until his feet finally found sand again._

_But he did, oh, he did._

_And there, on the dead sands was his lover._

_He cried, oh he cried,_

_Tripped in the sand on the way to his body-_

_Just like Gods never did._

_But it was night, and the ocean no longer reflected rays of the moonlight_

_Because the light had left the ocean,_

_Just as it had left his lover’s eyes._

_He lowered to his knees in front of the body, and he wept into his hair._

_He, his only._

_“Seto,” the God spoke into cold hair._

_It was funny, really, that Seto’s body had maintained its beautiful form._

_Even in the hands of death- but oh,_

_Death did not feel cold,_

_Because the child of the Sun was holding him._

_And he wept for all that was lost,_

_Moaned his anger and sudden hatred for humans onto Seto’s cheek,_

_His tears glowed like solar flares._

_“No one will hurt you again,” the God dusted his fingers over Seto’s wounds,_

_Over the hole in his cold chest,_

_“No one will hurt you again, they lost their chance.”_

_He wept, oh, he wept for all that would be forsaken._

_“No one will hurt you again,_

_Because no one will exist to hurt you._

_I’ll reshape this world with my own soul,_

_I’ll place my tears onto the wicks of candles,_

_And give life to new souls._

_But oh, this is their last chance._

_For when I cry the last of my sympathy,_

_No more tears will come from my soul,_

_And no more souls will come from my tears._

_Then, my dear, we will live alone._

_Bronze between us, my lovely child of the Moon,_

_My dear love._

_Bronze between us,_

_Within and without us,_

_You and I.”_

_He cried,_

_Until his Father saw the mess he had made._

 

Atem woke with fingers cold, but it wasn’t from holding his supposed dead lover.

Instead, it was just because the lanterns seemed that much further away. Seto was sitting up, looking at him.

“Are you okay?”

Atem didn’t notice he was crying. “Yeah. Go back to bed.”

“Okay.”

Silence in the room, and the stars were out. Atem thought the ocean was nearer than it was.

“Seto?”

“Your eyes are really blue.”

“...Are they? Thank you.”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“I like them.”

“...Thank you.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

 

* * *

 

_Do you ever dream of getting older?_

_No fear, because youth always trails by,_

_In the loving shadow of two._

 

* * *

 

 

Days trailed by, and Seto learned how Atem earned his keep in the world, how he had stayed warm as long as Seto had. Things felt okay, and every once and awhile they held hands.

But they seldom left the forest, because the rot of death still thickened the air where Seto killed the cold man. So they stayed in, played cards, and they ate food.

Seto’s shoulder had healed without becoming infected, they thanked the Gods. They weren’t sure why they did so, the Gods had blatantly forsaken them.

Maybe Atem did, because of that peculiar dream he had. Because it was then that he felt like a God himself.  

 

Seto stood in front of the mirror.

“My name is Seto, given to me by myself. I have no last name, as I was born after the tradition of surnames and family systems began to die out. I’m twenty-one years old. I was born on October 25th according to the Gregorian Calendar, though this is an estimate. I like games, my favorite game is chess. I also enjoy card games. I have a pinochle deck that is complete, therefore it is my favorite. I have remnants of other miscellaneous games, but the decks are incomplete or there are rules missing. My favorite color is blue.”

He swallowed nothing, paused. Looked at his reflection in the bathroom vanity. Took a deep breath.

_So much harder than before._

“I have one family member. He adopted me as his older brother, and I adopted him as my younger. His name is Mokuba, no last name. I met him on January first of my ninth year. He was born as what seemed to be a young toddler, I shared candlelight with him. He likes games too. We cleared out the old weapon facility and lived there safe for years. Mokuba went missing on July seventh of my sixteenth year, and I have not seen him since. We were attacked while collecting food. I make attempts to find Mokuba frequently. I love him and he makes me happy.” He smiled despite himself, was happy that Atem was downstairs. “I live with someone named Atem now, and I’m not alone anymore. He makes me happy.”

He looked at the calendar that hung on the bathroom door, after much convincing on his part. Atem seemed to not mind after a while.

“Today is December 21st. On this day in 1968, Apollo 8 launched from the Kennedy Space Center. They got to see the moon, and all of Earth from outer space. How nice is that? I wish I was there. If I grew up in the better times, I would want to work for NASA. I think I’m good enough at math… I could be on the launch control team. No, I would be William Anders. I’d see lovely Earth, how the lights of the cities illuminated space. We created our own star.” Seto looked at his reflection. He needed a bath. “But we killed her and the lights went out.”

He was silent for a moment, and then he left the bathroom.

Atem was cooking a hash of potatoes, shallots and garlic. It smelled delicious, and Seto knew he had a home in him, that they would find each other eventually.

“Hi,” Atem said. Took his lantern out from underneath the stove. They both said nothing about it.

“Hi.” Seto sat down at the table in the kitchen. “Do you like stars?”

Atem scoffed. “Of course. Have you _seen_ the outside of the house?”

Seto frowned. “No, not just the shape. Like, stars in space. Planets.”

“Oh.” Atem stirred around the potatoes, separated plates out. “I don’t mind them. But Yugi liked the subject more than I do.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you think I could’ve been an astronaut? Back in the better times?”

“Probably.”

“Thank you.”

 

And they spent the rest of the day talking about the stars.

Atem thought of Yugi, but for once his thoughts weren’t plagued by stale tar, and he just remembered his smile and mind that shined like galaxies never known.

 

_It snowed on Christmas morning._

 

“I feel bad, are you sure-”

“Shush,” Atem walked next to him, and everything felt nostalgic when they held each other's hands. “It’s fine. I love the presents you gave me.”

Atem smiled and thought of it, the way Seto’s fingers brushed against his as he taught him how to solve a Rubik’s cube after stubbornly hiding the instructions.  That, and Seto’s sub-par drawing of a lion that he colored and gave to him as a second Christmas gift.

“Let’s just make sure we get home at a good time, okay? And once the sun goes down, hide your lantern and keep your gun ready.”

_I cant believe I’m doing this again._

“Okay,” Seto replied.

_I can’t believe I’m doing this again._

They continued to walk, and Atem thought of Yugi.

More so, when the observatory came into view.

He closed his eyes, thought that Yugi was walking alongside with them because _Gods_ if ghosts and spirits were real,

And flames never died,

Yugi was next to him right now.

He swore it, he swore.

 

_“Why do you always insist on coming here?”_

_"Because! The books say that space is infinite, you know. So there would be infinite possibilities too, right? Infinite possibilities for a single life?" He laughed. Atem loved that laugh. He remembered so. "I bet the stars are just pretty to distract us. We've been locked away from everything peaceful, everything good is sitting beyond the stars. Maybe if I tell them I'm sorry, they'll let me pass." Yugi turned to face Atem. Smiled, like he always did. “Okay, your turn.”_

_Atem frowned. “Why?”_

_“Because. I want you to tell me what you see.”_

_Yugi stepped away from the telescope and Atem approached it. Sighed as he brought the stars into focus._

_But he could hear Yugi next to him._

_“Well?”_

_“I see stars.”_

_“Yeah, and beyond them?”_

_Atem knew it was pointless, but he looked harder. Saw nothing but black, and it reminded him of the ocean. “...Nothing.”_

_“But that’s okay,” Yugi said and he grabbed one of Atem’s hands. “Because you can paint every dark part of the universe into whatever color you want. You can paint in colors we’ve never seen.”_

_Atem left the telescope behind. They walked away._

_The spiral case they walked down casted ornate shadows because of the lanterns. “What did you mean by that?”_

_“Huh?” Yugi was dragging his fingers along the curved shape of the banister. The little things, the little things._

_“About painting in colors we’ve never seen. What did you mean by that?” Atem smiled. “I know your mind is constantly knitting celestial poetry, so I’m sure there was more left unsaid, right?”_

_But really, Atem just wanted to hear Yugi’s thoughts, how they bent and shaped reality into beauty that only his words could describe._

_“Oh, yeah.” Yugi opened the door to the cold, and their voices were hushed in the open air. The stars were much smaller now, but they were still beautiful and the grass smelled like mint leaves. If crickets weren’t extinct they would be chirping. “So. You know how you like to make art?”_

_“Mhmm.”_

_“And how, you know, even if you try to draw realistically, it is never a perfect representation of the object you see?”_

_Atem nudged his shoulder. “Are you calling me a bad artist?”_

_“Nah.” They were both smiling. But their eyes, they were different. Because Yugi was looking up towards space, eyes wide, casting the reflection of every star in sight. Atem liked his eyes, the odd purple color._

_They looked like another universe entirely,_

_Just happier._

_And Atem’s eyes, they were looking at Yugi’s. He wondered if his eyes ever shone like that, but he already knew they didn’t. He wasn’t special, no. He didn’t belong to the stars like Yugi did._

_“Well, I was just thinking. Maybe, what you draw is better. Because it comes from your mind. All the stuff you can’t see. And maybe that’s what is past the stars. In the happier universes.”_

_Atem looked towards the road again. “I don’t know about that, Yugi. I think if drawings willed new universes into existence, there would be a lot of really scary ones.”_

_“No,” small shakes of Yugi’s head. “No.”_

_Silence, for a small moment._

_“Why  ‘no?’”_

_Yugi shrugged. “Because the bad ones don’t deserve to live beyond stargates, they just have to watch the good universes shine and live with jealousy like we do.”_

_“Hmm.” The road dragged on, and the observatory was far behind. “You have a wild imagination, Yugi.”_

_“Hah. I just wish I could draw half as good as you can.”_

_“Tell you what.” Atem wrapped his arm around Yugi’s shoulders, he knew they were both shivering. “You just keep on telling me wonderful stories, and I’ll do my best to incorporate it into my artwork.”_

_“Really?” Yugi asked, And the stars were still in his eyes._

_“Yep. Teamwork, you know. All that good stuff.”_

_“Okay,” Yugi laughed. And Atem always liked it, the way Yugi’s laugh sounded. It was kind of an off sound, but it was his and his alone. “We’re a team.”_

_“Always will be,” Atem replied._

_“One day we are going to walk past the stars, you know.”_

_“Are we?”_

_“Yeah.”_

_“Okay Yugi,” Atem said. “We will, I promise. And just in case we don’t, I’ll draw both of us crossing over those gates to make sure that some version of us, far away, gets there._

_“Or maybe the drawing will be us, and it’ll happen right then.”_

_“Maybe.”_

_“Heh.”_

_“Hah.”_

 

The door to the spiral staircase seemed rustier than it had been last year.

“What is this?” Seto asked.

“It’s an observatory,” Atem replied. Opened the door and forgot that he hadn’t ascended up these stairs since before the bad day. “You look at the stars, and stuff.”

“You can do that anywhere,” Seto replied.

“Not like you can here.”

Atem lead him up the staircase, into that old clearing where the telescope was. The wide ceiling overhead, and it looked like nobody had been here since. Of course nobody had, cold people didn’t care about the stars, they cared about all that was underneath soil.

“Here we are,” Atem said quietly.

And he turned his face away and tried not to cry when he saw Seto’s face.

Because it was so nostalgic,

Because it looked nearly identical in gesture, to the most beautiful memory he had.

Maybe Yugi was still alive, somehow, and he was pressing Seto’s shoulders to walk in the same steps he did. To make the same face of childish and hopeful curiosity, wide eyed, with those damned stars shining in his eyes.

The only difference now, was that the galaxy that rested beyond the stars was no longer the purple color of old, but a beautiful blue, as if the sky was morning, but the celestial spread of colors and stardust decided to stay.

Maybe it was Yugi’s soft hands that had pushed the backs of Seto’s calves, of his heels to step in the same places he did. Perhaps Seto was a puppet to fate in that moment, but not in a bad way like all the books made such a thing out to be. It was those red beautiful ribbons Yugi had talked about in the past that had wrapped around Seto’s legs and moved him forward in those steps of the past, and the same ribbons were there, interlaced around his fingers when he held the telescope close. He pressed his cheekbone gently to the cold surface.

“...I don’t see anything,” Seto said.

“Here, hold on.” Atem looked through the telescope, and he brought the stars into focus. “Try again.”

Even the small gasp that Seto made when he looked through the telescope again was nostalgic, Yugi made the same noise too.

“Beautiful,” Seto remarked.

“Yeah.” Atem smiled, despite himself. Because he knew that Seto had _no idea_ how much coming here hurt. Gods, it hurt, all he felt was Yugi’s words floating in the air, hushed sounds, consonants and the way “S’s” rolled off of his tongue. But he sat in one of the old chairs, and it was cold on his rear. He waited for roughly five minutes that felt like a lifetime.

Seto hadn’t moved or said a word, all that was heard was the sound of his breathing, the tiny puffs of steam that followed.

He only spoke once, but all he whispered was _“wow.”_

“We should go now, it’s really late. The colder it gets, the easier we will be detected.”

“Yeah,” Seto replied. But it was moments later that he finally moved from where he was stargazing.

Seto said he was grateful, and they walked down the stairway.

And Atem remembered what Yugi’s fingers looked like as they dusted across the banister. He would have stopped to cry, but he knew Seto would hug him.

He didn’t want that now, because he wanted to get as far away from the observatory as possible.

He knew it was a place of peace and release to Seto,

But to him,

It reeked of complacency and death.

They walked down starlit roads, and Atem’s mind was elsewhere.

 

_“One day we are going to walk past the stars, you know.”_

 

“Are you okay?”

Atem looked over. Seto’s eyes were still shining with the stars. “Yeah,” he sighed. “I’m fine. I just… used to go there a lot with Yugi. It makes me kind of sad, sometimes.”

“Maybe he’s still-”

 _“No,”_ Atem was careful not to shout too loud. He saw Seto flinch and look away. “No. Sorry. It’s just that…”

The pavement had never felt colder.

“I _know_ he’s gone. We already said goodbye.” But he smiled. “I’ll see him again though.”

He looked at the stars, and they shined for him. “Just not here.”

Seto thought of Mokuba meeting Yugi and he felt scared.

“Not here.”

 

Nearly home, Atem stopped and turned to him.

Smiled.

“I’m full of secrets, you know.”

Seto frowned. “I suppose. Why?”

“When we go back to the house, grab your bathing stuff. We’re going on a night swim.”

“What, _why?_ You know how dangerous that is?”

Atem grabbed his hand. “But life is worth experiencing. Let’s not play it _all_ safe, yeah?” A smile. “That’s how I ended up with you, isn’t it?”

Seto smiled back. “I suppose.”

After returning home for a brief and confusing moment, Seto followed Atem through a route that had obviously been walked previously, but not often. Little markers left in the trees with knives that had dulled over time. Markers to find the way home. The night was still new but _Gods_ it was cold, and Seto was shivering.

And for a moment, he had wavering trust.

He thought of himself, there, at an old man-made dock covered in moss and rot. An old lake that reflected the stars.

_Atem would push him in, and the water would be frozen._

_Seto’s muscles would be frozen, and he would exhale all of his air and inhale obsidian, sink to the bottom. He would become the blood of All and dissolve away like everyone else who died at the ocean._

_Atem would push him in, and the water would be cold. But as Seto climbed back up the ladder to retaliate, Atem would pick up his lantern and throw it as hard as he could towards the middle of the lake. Like a ribbon tied neatly around his throat, Seto would be dragged after his only warmth. Because he needed it, he needed it._

_Then, he would swim down under until he lost his air, and he’d tumble into the obsidian, see through the dark, and, there at the bottom of the lake he’d find it. His poor lantern, struggling to stay alive as water seeped in._

_The pressure from the water, it cracked the glass. But Seto curled his arms around it, and there he would sleep and become nothing._

_Atem grab the knife in their bag,_

 

A shake on his shoulder snapped Seto from his thoughts.

“Gods, Seto. You nearly walked into a tree. You’re doing that… thing again. You know, that thing you do sometimes.”

“Sorry,” Seto replied quietly. He wished his thoughts weren’t as cruel, that they were as kind as the thoughts and hopes in his heart.

“Anyway, we are almost here. A few more minutes.”

“Okay.”

As they walked, Seto started to feel something indescribable, and he _swore_ the lanterns glowed brighter. He bit his tongue, tried to tame the absolute _bliss_ he felt in his stomach, just let it come out as cold exhales. But everything in his body felt warm. He squeezed Atem’s hand a little tighter.

“You feel it, don’t you?” Atem asked.

“Yeah.”

“You know, the happy feeling.”

“Yeah.”

“It’ll only get worse. Hah.”

“Oh.”

Then it came into view, after trekking down to where the river had forked off into multiple creeks. Up a bit higher on another path, there were billows of steam twirling into the sky.

“Now I gotta warn you,” Atem said as he started up the steep path. “This place is special. _Very_ special. All sorts of bad things like to hang out here, but we got lucky because I guess most the cold people are sleeping. Mostly.”

“Oh.”

“But keep your gun close, and your ears open.

“Okay.”

“And your knife.”

“Okay.”

By the time they made it to the small clearing above, Seto was ready to start shedding layers of clothing because he felt _so warm,_ he thought he might faint. But it was nice, because everything was always cold. He looked at the hot spring, he saw _everything_ that he never knew in the warm waters.

He realized then, that it was the only body of water that he was not scared of.

“Check this out,” Atem knelt down next to the waterside and held his lantern over the edge. “The water isn’t grey. It’s clear and blue-ish in the daytime.”

_Blue._

So the books were true then, sometimes the water was his favorite color. That made him happy enough to smile. “That’s really cool,” he said quietly.

“Right?”

A bit of silence. And it was warm enough that Seto could feel sweat under his skin. It was unusual to feel, and it was irritating. But he liked it more than the cold.

Atem smiled but it was off. “Well, I’m getting in.”

“Okay.” Seto frowned as he began to undo his clothing, maybe he was nervous. But he couldn’t imagine why, so he pushed the happy feelings that somehow melted with his nervousness to the corner of his mind and went to the edge of the small pool. He ignored Atem’s mutual undressing and kept his eyes on the reflections the stars and moon casted onto the water’s surface.

Seto shivered against the cold, body naked and pale, deprived of sun. But when he barely dipped one toe in, _Gods,_ it was like the blood of _life_ had clinged onto his veins and climbed through every crevice in his body. He made a small noise despite himself, because his throat was tilted up and _Gods_ he wanted to be on the moon.

For a moment, he felt like a different human- no,

A different entity.

And he felt like he was walking through ancient memories that only flowed through him by the shared bloodwater of life.

 _“Geez._ Now I can see why Yugi always made fun of me when I got in the water. You look like you’re… spiritually getting off, as Yugi called it.”

Seto sat down quickly, and the water nearly _burnt_ him it was so hot. But it felt better than the absolute embarrassment he had and _knew_ is face was flushed. But it was dark and he thanked the Gods.

“The water just… makes me feel like someone else sometimes? You know?” Atem sunk into the water until everything beneath his chin was hidden from the air. “But it just feels… nice. I don’t know. Yugi never reacted that way, but Gods,” Atem started to laugh, “he gave me the funniest explanation for it. I kid you not, when I asked him why the water was so abnormally hot he just said ‘I think that a volcano had sex with the river.’ He was _such_ an odd human. He also said that the weird feeling was the aftermath of the ancient water-volcano sex. Weird, weird human.”

Seto closed his eyes, let the steam hold his eyelashes and the water fill his pores. “So Yugi didn’t feel it?”

“Nah. Weird, isn’t it?” Atem frowned. “Come to think of it, most of my creativity stemmed from Yugi’s own. But the other day, I had the _most_ bizzare dream. And you were in it. But, we were… Gods, I think. I think you came from the ocean, and I was the Sun God’s child. But you…” Atem looked over at him, and his eyes were serious, and they seemed more colorful than usual. “You were dying. Or dead. You were my lover, and I was angry and punished the world.”

Seto didn’t reply. Rather, he felt uneasy.

“Come to think of it, in that dream… I felt like I do when I come here. That weird feeling, you know. That you’re someone else.”

“That’s weird,” Seto replied.

“All of it?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all you’re going to say?”

“I guess. I don’t know.”

“Ah. Okay.”

“Sorry.”  
“No, it’s okay.”

“Okay.”

They let the silence hold them, until they felt it was time to bathe. Seto turned his back to Atem, and started to wash his hair with old shampoo. For once, he didn’t feel afraid to dunk his head under.

Atem watched, despite what little he knew about common courtesy, because there was something so soothing and _comfortable_ about watching the tiny motions Seto made. The way water casted reflections onto his bumps of his spine, shifts against skin. Slight dimples above his rear, and Atem couldn’t understand the amount of intimacy that he felt, it swept through his lungs like the steam that enveloped him. It wasn’t until that moment that Atem realized how fear of closeness had muddled and hidden his attraction for the other, and now that they were both stripped to bones it was _everywhere_ and it made him grit his teeth. But he sat, and he waited until Seto was done. Kept his fingers on his cheek, tried to blink away his frustration.

Seto eventually turned to face him, and neither spoke.

Atem muttered something about his hair, and washed his own. They both sat in painful silence until the chemical smell from the bodywash and the shampoo drifted away through smaller streams.

Seto shifted. “Thank you.”

“What for?”

“You know. For taking me here.”

“Hah. No problem. Figured it was about time I told someone else about this place. It’s just… so nice, I didn’t want it to be exploited. But I trust you.”

“Thank you.”

“...”

Seto looked up. “The stars are pretty here too, you know. I can see all of them, and I’m comfortable.” He closed his eyes. “I’m very comfortable.”

And they both felt stupidly far away,

And they both felt stupid for wanting to be closer.

“So, Seto.”

“Hmmm?”

“Want to do the thing?”

“...What?”

“The thing. The hand thing.”

“Okay.”

Seto stood just barely, enough so he could scoot over to Atem’s side. _Everything felt so much better and so much worse,_ how the nostalgia that _wasn’t his_ seized his neck and smoothed down his throat. He looked away, let his hand emerge slightly from the water. Atem’s skin met his, and he felt fingers interlace slowly.

He thought it was ridiculous, how perfect everything felt.

They both sat there, shoulders nearly touching. Looking forward. But something, _Gods it felt like seeing colors long since forbidden by human eyes,_ was different _._ Seto felt like his body was divine.

His human soul seated somewhere in the recedes of his mind, watching through his own eyes. He thought that must be what watching television was like. He watched, _oh,_ he watched and felt as his heart pounded, he turned his chin just slightly. He was shaking. He felt his hands tremble, but Atem’s were too and he could hear that his breaths were nervous exhales. Atem’s were too. Motions mirrored, and Seto thought maybe Atem was feeling what he was.

And he didn’t know why, _Gods_ he didn’t know, but the words felt right when he exhaled softly.

“How did we find ourselves here again?”

He didn’t expect Atem’s soft chuckle or the tear that formed on his lower eyelid. “I don’t know, my love.”

_But it feels right._

“But it feels right,” Atem spoke.

Maybe this wasn’t real, and Seto was absorbed in a book of ancients and the scenes were playing out in his mind too well for explanation. But no, that wasn’t true because he felt the cold air and the warm water, and he felt Atem’s hand.

_Oh, he felt how his chin tilted towards Atem’s direction,_

How Atem mirrored his actions.

In those eyes, _eyes of lust and overwhelming power,_

Seto saw fire.

He wondered what Atem saw in his own, because his skin felt like water and his eyes piercing and lonely. But he, he knew he resemblance to the Moon.

Atem, he was the Sun.

Necks stretched, shoulders pressed down with the weight of _All,_ Seto shifted his chest forward enough, rotated his neck enough, his lungs couldn’t work fast enough and he was breathing so close to Atem’s face, to his lips.

That was all he could hear now. His beating heart and the soft breaths between them.

_Gods, they were so close._

He felt no need to reach the Gods because he felt them pushing at his skin.

Slowly, they pressed forward until noses brushed, lips parted by the smallest of spaces. _And oh,_ when their lips finally touched it felt like broken chains of old that were finally linked together by love alone, bright and glowing in the most vivid hues of green, and it was the energy that made the forests shine.


	11. Death in a Garden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few things: This is a pretty emotionally rough chapter, including reflecting heavily on the loss of a loved one. That being said, this chapter has some pretty heavy references to past romantic relationships (and very very mild sexual references), specifically Atem and Yugi.  
> But I promise there is /some/ happy stuff in there.  
> Final note: The comments I received on the last chapter were some of the nicest things I have ever read.  
> Thank you, so so much.

_He felt no need to reach the Gods because he felt them pushing at his skin._

_Slowly, they pressed forward until noses brushed, lips parted by the smallest of spaces. And oh,_ _when their lips finally touched it felt like broken chains of old that were finally linked together by love alone, bright and glowing in the most vivid hues of green, and it was the energy that made the forests shine._

 

Atem’s lips were warmer than the water, and Seto’s cold soul burst and leaked.

Eyes closed, but Seto knew the reflections in the water were shifting violently. The lanterns, the small fires were bright and flickering with overwhelming life. If the bronze casings were not gifts from the Gods, they would threaten to glow and distort from the warmth within.

Atem shifted, and his hand that wasn’t holding Seto’s went to his cheek, fingers cupping his jawline.

 _So warm,_ Atem’s hand was so warm. The water on Seto’s skin threatened to evaporate. Lips pressed with more meaning, a soft parting before they met again, shoulders, torso’s touching and hands felt each other, divine skin.

 _Lovely,_ lovely.

Soft, everything felt so soft.

And after what felt like a lifetime, _the lifetime of All,_ they parted and looked at each other's eyes, so close.

There was love between them,

_But it wasn’t their own._

It wasn’t their own.

Opposite to which the feeling came, the divine presence suddenly vanished like a ghost exorcised from their pores.

Atem’s mouth dropped just slightly, eyes wide. The fire that Seto had saw earlier vanished back into the vivid- but worldly red color they usually were.

Neither of them spoke, both shocked in silence. Quiet breathing and sounds of water shifting. Eventually, Atem shifted back, head shaking in violent little motions.

A frown, swallowed nothing. A quiet laugh, and another frown.

“No.”

Seto felt ice in his heart, his lungs, his brain.  

“No, Atem repeated. Quieter. “No. No, no. No.” Another laugh as he got up and left the water. “No.”

Seto still sat in the water, still dumbstruck. Stared at his knees, exposed in the cold. Touched his lips with his fingers. _He kissed someone._

He ground his teeth, and felt panic surge his entire self.

_He kissed Atem._

_Atem kissed him._

He knew, that was something in which death would come a hundred times first before occurring even once. The act was nothing like he thought, nor what his dreams told him. No, it could only be explained by the action itself.

_But this was something else,_

He felt like someone else.

And now Atem,

_Seto was cold and frozen,_

Atem looked angry.

“No. I don’t know what that was, but…” Atem violently dried himself with a towel. “That didn’t happen. That _can’t_ happen. It was the water. That was the water.”  

Seto continued to stare at his knees.

“Get up,” Atem placed a towel on a nearby rock. The dragon towel Seto liked. “We are leaving and we aren’t coming back here. Not together, anyway.”

Seto stared at his knees.

He wanted to cry because everything felt ruined and _it was Christmas,_

So he stared at his knees.

“Come on, Seto,” Atem sighed. “It’s getting dark and cold you’re going to freeze to death walking back unless we leave together. We can talk about this later.”

Seto stared at his knees and thought about how much he liked Atem. But now, he knew _how_ he liked him. He liked him more than a friend.

How they held hands and smiled. Cooked food together and cherished each other’s warmth.

Was that what friends do?

_Atem seemed to not like that._

He wanted to cry but he stared at his knees and felt agony choke his words spoken next.

“Do you still want to hold hands sometimes?”

A brief pause.  

“Maybe,” Atem replied as he packed the shampoos and soaps.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“...”

“Let’s go.”

“...”

Are you crying?”

“No,” Seto said.

“You’re lying.”

“I am.”

“Okay.”

“...”

Seto got up and felt shameful in his naked skin. Quickly wrapped the towel around himself and dried his hair. Combed it and let it dry as they walked. But it froze like small icicles, and he never felt so cold. Not even the lanterns they held were enough anymore, and the fires seemed dim and pitiful.

He cried quietly as they walked, only shifted his hand to wipe tears from his face. He wished he was holding hands with Atem instead. That was warm, and _everything else in the world_ was not.  

It wasn’t until the front door was shut that someone said anything at all.

“I can sleep on the floor if you want.” Seto’s voice was so quiet that Atem barely heard it.

“That’s not necessary,” Atem replied, “you can sleep in the bed still.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t, then.”

“Okay.”

“You’re making me sad.”

“Sorry.”

Atem sighed, and he got ready for bed.

Seto did too, without words. Everything felt terrible and grey.

Sheets were untucked, and bodies faced opposite sides. Both too scared to say anything because the noise of it would threaten to hurt them. When Seto’s mind had exhausted itself with bad thoughts, he finally started to fall asleep and he had never been so grateful.

But in the dim light of the lanterns, when they both rested so far away on either side of the bed, was when everything melted.

“I don’t want to go through it again.”

Seto’s eyes opened to the dark, and he was surprised that either of them were still awake. He wasn’t sure if he was even conscious before Atem had spoken. It was so late.

“What do you mean?”

Atem took a moment to reply, having assumed he was only speaking to the house and the ghosts he hoped were there to comfort him.

“I’ve done this before.”

“Oh.”

 

_Quiet breaths, warm bodies tangled in the lowlight. The room was bright with the heat emanating from damp skin. Yugi was giggling, hushed in the dark. He kissed Atem’s cheek and his teeth chattered._

_“My ears are ringing,” Yugi said._

_“Are they? Mine are too, kind of.”_

_Yugi tucked his chin into the crook of Atem’s neck._

_“You want to know why?”_

_Atem nearly cried because he was so happy, but he just smiled and ran his fingers through Yugi’s hair. “I mean, I think I know why.”_

_“Because we weren’t here anymore.”_

_Atem loved this. “What do you mean?_

_Small motions, legs shifting. Hearts fluttering._

_“Our minds, they flew. We flew over another city, but our souls were connected. The city, you know, the one in the sky. And we saw every light and heard every noise of the past. But our bodies are readjusting now, so we can’t hear very well.”_

_“Oh, hah.” Atem shifted Yugi’s head back a little bit, just enough to kiss his forehead._

_“Did you like it?” Yugi asked._

_Atem felt his cheeks flush. “Well. Of course.”_

_“The lights of the city, dummy. Not the other thing.” Yugi laughed. “Did you like the lights?”_

_“Oh,” Atem smiled. “Yeah, I did.”_

_“I’m so glad.”_

_“...”_

_“...”_

_“I love you, Yugi.”_

_“I love you too.”_

 

Atem bit his lip. _Gods,_ he hated how he felt. _Gods,_ he just wanted to feel okay. He wished the kiss never happened, some part of him just wished he never met anybody- _no_ , he wished _he himself_ never happened. He couldn’t control the audible sob that broke from his throat, nor the tears that came after. _Oh,_ he cried.

“What? What’s… Atem? What’s wrong?”

_Damn it, Seto._

“I can’t do it, Seto.” An ugly sob, Atem covered his mouth and hated himself for crying. “I was brave enough to risk having you around. But, but,”

_He saw Yugi’s smile. Everything that his memories had left of him._

“I can’t risk anything more. I just can’t. Not again. Because... if I lost you, it would hurt. It would hurt so badly, again. _Gods…”_

Quiet, as Atem cried.

Seto unsure what to do, so he spoke.

“...You held hands with Yugi, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did.”

“And you kissed him?”   
“Yes. We kissed many times.”

Seto felt hurt for a reason he couldn’t decipher.

“I’ve never suffered as much as I did when I lost Yugi. It was slow, and it was painful. _So painful._ ” He wiped tears from his eyes. “You know the crack in my lantern that you like to poke fun at?”

“Yes,” Seto responded, he was scared.

“I threw it.”

A hand emerged from the covers and pointed at a tiny dent in the bedroom wall. “I threw it. I tried to shatter it.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“...I’m glad you didn’t.”

“...”

Seto smiled despite himself, and everything sad that surrounded them. “And I’m glad you came out and got me when I was sitting in the woods waiting to die.”

Atem said nothing. Cried quietly.

“We’re both alive,” Seto said. “That’s a good thing.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Remember that thing you said to me?”

“Uh.” Atem laughed, sort of. “Which thing? I’ve said a lot of things.”

“You said that Yugi prioritized happy experiences over time or risk. That the reason to survive was to be happy.”

“I know, but…” Atem stopped smiling. “Losing Yugi made me so sad. It has been over a year now, and I’m still sad. He was…”

Atem sighed.

“He was so special to me. I loved him more than anything.”

Seto understood, but he spoke against it nonetheless. “Just… do what makes you happy. Live without fear as much as you can, because it hurts if you don’t.”

“I get it, Seto.” A sniffle. “I get it.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you.”

A small pause.

“...You’re welcome, Atem.”

“I’m sorry if it seemed like I was mad at you earlier, I was just... “ Atem felt ice in his lungs. “I was just ...scared. Of everything.”

“It’s okay.”

“Okay.”

They quieted, stopped speaking. And Atem thought of his dream with the Gods, how Seto’s cold body rested in his hands. The sun and the moon. How he felt it, yes, he felt love there.

It was later that night when it nearly broke dawn that Atem made up his mind. He turned his body.

Seto was facing the wall still, sides and shoulders shifting slightly with his sleepy breaths. Yes, he could see it through the soft cotton shirt he was wearing. Hair sprawled all over his pillow.  

And Atem knew it, he couldn’t fool himself.

He knew that he adored Seto and everything that he was. So he shifted closer, until his arm wound over the top of Seto’s torso. Pressed his chest to Seto’s back, legs against legs, forehead against his shoulder, soft things.

Seto jolted slightly, wanted to turn his head to face Atem, but he didn’t want whatever was happening to stop.

“...What?”

“I made up my mind.”

“What do you mean?”

Atem smiled, pressed his lips onto the back of Seto’s neck and spoke. The clean shampoo in his hair smelled lovely. “I want to be happy. You make me happy. So…” Atem’s hand found Seto’s where it was resting in front of his chest. “It’s you. I want you. If you… are okay with that.”

Atem’s hand gently let go of his, and instead pressed his shoulder encouragingly, he wanted Seto to face him.

And he did.

Atem saw blue, soft eyes and a nervous expression. Candlelight made the shadows flicker, and Seto’s face was _so soft._ So he rested a hand on Seto’s cheek, _he chose to, Gods, he wanted to,_ and he leaned in slowly to kiss his lips chastely.

An exchange that meant _so much._

It was regretful when lips parted. Atem nearly burst out in laughter when he saw Seto’s lips turn upwards quickly before returning back to a normal state. He was trying to keep his composure, but he could tell _how happy Seto was._

“I think you’re great,” Atem said.

“Thank you. I think you are, too.”

“Go back to sleep, okay?”

Atem turned his back, and was happy when he felt Seto’s arms around him.

_So warm._

“Okay. Is this okay?” A little squeeze of his arms.

“Yes, it’s okay,” Atem replied.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”


	12. Silence of Siberia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for this chapter: Vague dream with a few innocent casualties  
> Other than that, love all of you and thank you for supporting me as always.

_ Another boat, another empty boat. Still, he let his vast arms of the sea envelop it, ignored the screams of the dozen fisherman that would certainly lose their lives. The sea was his blood, and it screamed with his agony.  _

_ Where?  _

_ The boat was held by a wall of water, barely upright. He wouldn’t let it sink, no, not yet. Aquatic hands searched every crevice, every steel corner. The smell of rotten fish, gasoline. Oil. _

_ Shameful. _

_ Where? _

_ There, in the corner of the storage room, was a frightened man.  _

_ 30 human years old, perhaps.  _

_ “Where?” Seto asked when he took physical form.  _

_ His naked body shone like the moon that created him, translucent and his hair flowed like the blood he was imprisoned in.  _

_ The man was scared in the presence of a God. Scared, because he knew he was going to die. His teeth were chattering, body shaking and filled with fright. Tears in his eyes. “Where, what? What do you want from me? Please don’t kill me, I, I don’t, I don’t want to die, oh God, God, please don’t kill me. Who, whoever you are. Please!”  _

_ Seto ignored the chattering, knelt down in front of him. Celestial skin glowing silver. “Where? Where is He?”  _

_ The man swallowed nothing, cried again. “Who? Who is ‘He?’ I, I don’t know!” He started to cry harder. “I don’t know who you’re talking about! Please spare me! I don’t want to die!”   _

_ “Where is Atem?” Seto glared. “Your species disgusts me, he trusted you. And you hid Him due to fear of the unknown. Fear of the Gods. Mistakes,” he spat. “Mistakes. Atem is a fool for trusting you, but you are a fool for stepping into the territory of the divine.”  _

_ The man’s eyes widened, and Seto could tell he knew nothing. _

_ But Seto was angry.  _

_ “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about! It wasn’t me, it was someone else! I don’t, I didn’t know about Him, I swear! I don’t know who He is!” He sobbed and it sounded ugly.  _

_ Seto drifted closer, knelt face to face with the trembling man. “You pretend you’re not to blame.” _

_ Ocean eyes looked around, from the storage containers to the large industrial coolers. “Look around. All of this waste ends up in the ground. And it hurts Him. It ends up in the ocean, and it hurts myself. You destroy my home, my blood, and take precious lifeforms from me. The life in the depths, they suffer and bleed. Mine. You make us bleed. Foolish.”  _

_ Seto’s eyes were filled with hatred, but he was heartbroken.  _

_ “I hate your species for taking Him away. I loathe your species for hurting Him.” _

_ The man was crying still. _

_ “I despise your species for taking form akin to the Gods, trying to imitate us in form, tongue, and intellect.” _

_ “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the man pleaded. But Seto was angry.   _

_ “Where is He?” _

_ “I…” The man sobbed and shook. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”  _

_ Seto stood. “Goodbye.” He melted back into the ocean and became one with his veins,  _

_ And he capsized the boat. _

 

“Shh,” Atem held his shoulders and kept him still. “Shh. You’re being too loud, something outside might hear you. Shh. It’s okay.” 

Seto was breathing loudly, heart pounding. Sweat on his back, and his clothes were uncomfortable. The sun had just barely started to rise, and from the look of Atem’s apparel, he had been up for a while already. 

“Are you okay?”

Seto thought about it. 

“No,” Seto replied. “I’m not.” 

He was scared, he had never dreamed so vividly before. He was someone,  _ someone else, _ and it reminded him of how he felt at the hot springs. 

But he killed people.

_ He killed those twelve fishermen.  _

“Was it… was it one of  _ those  _ dreams?”

“Yes.” 

“What happened?” 

“I killed someone. An innocent and frightened man. And eleven more.” 

“Oh.”

“...”

“It just was a dream.” 

“They mean more than that.” 

“I know.” 

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“...” Atem smiled. “Let’s get up, okay?”

“Okay.” 

  
  


“I’m full of secrets, you know.” Atem’s smile gleamed, as he wrapped his fingers around the doorknob to his art room. Over two months into living with each other, and Atem still forbid Seto from entering the art room. Maybe they both knew, that the memories of Atem and Yugi together had thickened the air. So dense, the lingering past would form into a cold hand that would seize Seto’s throat and snap his neck.

But now he was strong, and Atem had told him enough stories. The nostalgic breath from his spoken words had interlaced Seto’s skin into invisible armor. 

He was finally ready. 

Atem swallowed nothing, smiled weakly. 

“Here goes.” 

The door creaked open and  _ Gods  _ the past tried to push Seto out as soon as he walked in, but he looked. 

He could feel him,  _ oh,  _ he could feel Yugi’s presence. On the walls, everywhere, were drawings. Nearly all of them were of Atem and Yugi holding hands, walking into places Seto had never heard of or thought imaginable. 

A building that wasn’t destroyed by chaos and time, with beautiful lights. Electric lights. 

They held hands in outer space, a celestial gate between them. 

One caught Seto by surprise, because they were holding hands on a watermelon. But they looked happy.  

And though he had never met Yugi, it was like he was standing in his presence, they spoke without words.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Seto said.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Seto replied as he walked past Atem and looked at all the drafted artworks.  _ So many works of Yugi. _

Atem laughed weakly. “I know it seems kinda weird that there are so many drawings of Yugi, but I guess it helped me cope with his death. Kinda felt like he was still here with me, you know.” 

“Yeah,” Seto was going to say he would do the same thing. But Mokuba was okay, and Yugi was not. “I see.” 

Atem bit his lip. Waited, watched Seto’s eyes. Felt naked and exposed after keeping secrets for too long. “There’s one other thing I wanted to show you. My most prized possession.” 

“The guitar?” 

“Nope. Better than the guitar.” 

“Okay.” 

Seto was surprised to find that a drape on the left wall hid a tiny hideaway door, which lead to a smaller room perhaps meant for small children to play in. But instead, there was…

Seto’s eyes would light up if they could. 

“No way,” he breathed. 

The most precious thing Seto had ever seen. 

A hand crank record player. 

Atem smiled proudly. Observed his nails. “Cool, huh? Found it here, in that very room. There was a lock on the door and I busted it open. Honestly, it’s the whole reason Yugi and I decided to stay here. So we’d… listen to music. Yugi would keep the record player wound and I’d draw. We were even lucky enough to find a small supply kit for it. Extra needles and parts, and stuff.” Atem frowned. “We only ever had one record though. Not that we didn’t  _ like  _ it, but… I just… assume there’s a lot more out there.”

Seto was still struck silent, he never imagined he’d observe such pleasantries such as hearing the voices of the past. Of the better times.  _ The golden days. _

“Wait, I forgot. Hold on.” Atem crouched down and dug around in a small shelf, and pulled out two batteries.  _ Rare.  _ “Watch this.” 

There were string lights wound around the low ceilings of the room, and there was a small casing at the end. Atem slid the batteries in and  _ oh,  _ Seto had never seen anything so beautiful. The room was suddenly bright with artificial light,  _ nearly as bright as the stars.  _ Tiny speckled lights covered everything, and Seto was smiling. Little stars on the ceiling. Wool-like blankets folded in the corner. 

“Wow,” Seto spoke quietly. 

Atem was clearly pleased with Seto’s amazement, and he slid forward, and picked up the case for the  _ one  _ record. Looked back. “Wanna do the honors of cranking the record player?” 

Seto reached forward, and Atem grabbed his hand. Raised his brows at him. 

“Now, listen. This is my  _ most  _ prized possession. You treat it like a newly woken child, okay? You touch  _ nothing  _ but the crank, and do  _ not  _ mess with the needle or the record. Turn it slowly, and try to keep your hand still. Even by  _ past  _ standards, this thing is old. Like, 1940’s old. You be careful.” 

Seto tried to be careful, but his hands were shaking. He was  _ so excited,  _ he wanted to hear them.  _ He wanted to hear the happy voices of the golden days.  _ The record player itself was beautiful, but in rough condition. Scratched and peeling leather, it looked like a small suitcase but it was open with mechanical works inside. On the top of the lid, the word  _ Birch  _ was printed. The other mechanics looked like bronze, but he didn’t know. What Seto assumed was the needle looked huge and heavy. But it was made finely. He ground his teeth,  _ Gods  _ he was observing something so precious. 

“No. I can’t. You do it, I’m too nervous.” 

Atem shrugged. “Okay.” He knelt forward, and very carefully began working away. “You just relax, then.” 

The blankets were unfolded and Seto was laying on his side, watching Atem pull the record from its sleeve. Placed carefully, then he switched it on and  _ it moved,  _ it moved all on its own. Seto was glad Atem didn’t ask him to put the needle on, because his hands shook and Atem’s did not. The needle was placed, music began to fill the room and Seto never felt so warm. 

It was a woman’s voice, scratched and unclear but it was heard. 

“Judy Garland,” Atem said. “That was her name.” He grinned. “Never heard a girl sing before, huh?” 

Seto frowned, but he was happy. “I’ve never heard a girl say anything.” 

He tried to hear the lyrics, something about another place. 

_ “Somewhere, over the rainbow, skies are blue.”  _

Atem sang along quietly. 

“What’s a rainbow?” Seto asked. “I thought it was just all the colors in one place. But she makes it sound alive.” 

“It  _ is  _ a wide array of colors, but they go across the sky. I think it happens when it rains really hard and then the sun shines.” 

“Oh.”

“I wonder if the skies used to be more blue.”

“That would be nice.” 

 

_ “Someday I'll wish upon a star _

_ And wake up where the clouds are far _

_ Behind me. _

_ Where troubles melt like lemon drops _

_ Away above the chimney tops _

_ That's where you'll find me.” _

 

Atem thought of Yugi. 

 

_ “Somewhere over the rainbow _

_ Bluebirds fly. _

_ Birds fly over the rainbow. _

_ Why then, oh why can't I? _

_ If happy little bluebirds fly _

_ Beyond the rainbow _

_ Why, oh why can't I?” _

 

Atem didn’t notice that he was crying, because he was thinking of Yugi flying through the stars. 

_ Nobody belonged to the stars like Yugi did.  _

But when he opened his eyes, he saw Seto’s looking back at him. That lovely blue color. And everything felt okay. He knew Yugi would remain in his heart forever until they met again in the core of the earth, but Seto was here. 

And, that made him very happy.  

Atem lifted the needle when it reached the end.

“Can you play it again?” Seto asked. 

“Sure,” Atem replied. 

Music filled the air again, and they spent the next three minutes in each other’s arms, lying there on the floor looking at the stars on the ceiling. 

 

_ “Someday I'll wish upon a star _

_ And wake up where the clouds are far _

_ Behind me. _

_ Where troubles melt like lemon drops _

_ Away above the chimney tops _

_ That's where you'll find me.” _

 

Atem scooted up from where his head was resting on Seto’s shoulder, and he looked at him. Lips close, for the first time since the night of the hot springs incident. The confession. But they were both happy now, and  _ this was their home.  _

So lips became closer, and Seto turned his face. Atem could feel Seto’s heartbeat, how he shook with nervousness and complacency. Again, there with music and starlight, lips met briefly.  

 

_ “Somewhere over the rainbow _

_ Bluebirds fly. _

_ Birds fly over the rainbow. _

_ Why then, oh why can't I? _

_ If happy little bluebirds fly _

_ Beyond the rainbow _

_ Why, oh why can't I?” _

 

Parted, and Atem leaned back down and rested his cheek on Seto’s shoulder. 

“I like you,” Atem said.

“I like you too,” Seto replied. 


	13. The Hungry Years

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for mild violence, and graphic depictions.   
> Thank you.

“My name is Seto, given to me by myself. I have no last name, as I was born after the tradition of surnames and family systems began to die out. I’m twenty-one years old, an estimate based on when I first woke and my physique as I continued to grow older. Noone is born at age 0. I was born on October 25th according to the Gregorian Calendar, though this is an estimate. I like games, my favorite game is chess. I also enjoy card games. I have a pinochle deck that is complete, therefore it is my favorite. I have remnants of other miscellaneous games, but the decks are incomplete or there are rules missing. My favorite color is blue.” 

He smiled at his reflection.

_ Things were okay.  _

“I have one family member. He adopted me as his older brother, and I adopted him as my younger. His name is Mokuba, no last name. I met him on January first of my fourth year, when I was roughly nine. I shared candlelight with him. He likes games too. We cleared out the facility, my old home, and lived there safe for years. Mokuba went missing on July seventh of my eleventh year, roughly five years ago, and I have not seen him since. We were attacked while collecting food. I make attempts to find Mokuba frequently. I love him and he makes me happy.”

Another smile, contented feelings. “I live with Atem now, and I’m not alone anymore. He makes me happy. He is my significant other, I assume. We haven’t discussed it much, because the concept of dating is old and complicated. ” 

He looked at the calendar that hung on the bathroom door.

“Today is December 31st. New Year’s Eve.” Seto frowned. “I don’t know what year it is, but it’s another one at midnight. Atem and I are going for a walk after breakfast, and that makes me happy.” 

He left the bathroom and got dressed. Nothing left to say, because he spoke words to another soul more than himself nowadays.  

Atem had taken a head start to the day and wandered into the forest. Looking for something. A gift, perhaps. He hadn’t gone exploring much since he met Seto, because they were too interested in exploring the outlines of each other's skin. But they would go today, yes, they would go back to that shopping center. Further, perhaps, into older houses. But that was dangerous because cold people lived there. But they wanted new things, and new experiences. 

They wanted to feel normal and have normal things. Atem kept on walking, further, until a scraggly looking bush near a hillside caught his view.  _ Oh,  _ it was familiar. 

“Shit,” Atem said. “Holy shit.” 

And he turned and ran back towards the house. 

The soil was wet and his shoes stuck in the ground, but he didn’t care. He swung the door open, nearly got mud on the carpet before deciding to stand and shout at the doorway.

“Seto! Hey, Seto! Shit, come here!” 

Seto’s book jolted from his startled hands where he was sitting on the couch. “What? What happened?”

“Just come outside!”

Seto hurried to the door and put his boots on quickly. “Okay.” 

Atem grabbed him by the hand, and they ran. Seto tried asking what was the matter, but the wind ate his voice and they were moving too fast. 

Finally, they came to a stop at the hillside. 

Out of breath, Atem merely pointed at a bush, and gasped for air. 

“Wh… what?” Seto wheezed, not understanding the urgency everything seemed to revolve around. 

“The bush,” Atem said finally. “That,” he tried for more air, “that is a blackberry bush. I  _ swear  _ it wasn’t here the last time I checked. It isn’t in bloom right now, but still. Blackberries.” 

Seto laughed despite his quiet frustration. “Atem, I thought something was wrong. You shouldn’t scare me like that.” 

Seto was going to lean his head on Atem’s shoulder but it suddenly jolted. 

Atem hopped a few times. Laughed like a child. “Blackberries! We get to have  _ more _ blackberries this summer! The plant looks  _ so healthy,  _ Gods, I wouldn’t be surprised if it started blooming  _ tomorrow.”  _

Seto’s mind was still whirling. “Amazing.” 

Atem calmed himself, grit his teeth. Held Seto’s hand. Bumped shoulders with him. “Sorry if I scared you. I was just tied between being really excited and wanting to surprise you and I guess it came across kinda weird.” 

“A little,” Seto replied. Kissed Atem’s cheek. “Happy New Year to us.” 

“My gift to you this year is this bush,” Atem said, “because I’ll make more blackberry jam this summer.” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.”

They held hands and began to walk back home. But  _ Gods,  _ it was like the Earth was slowly being rebirthed around them because they never felt the sun emerge so brightly, or the grass that had long since been hidden. Maybe this was a gift from the Gods, they didn’t know. 

Atem smiled. “Want to go on an adventure today?” 

“What kind?” 

“Houses. The sun is bright enough, I highly doubt anything is hiding.” Atem laughed, but it sounded off. “Imagine that. The dead playing in the sunlight.” 

“Haha.” 

“Hah.” 

The backpacks sat at the door, filled with emergency provisions. Sleeping bags and blankets rolled and tied onto them. The chances of becoming stuck or lost were small, but they were real. They brought guns and knives too. But they didn’t want to use them. 

Atem grabbed his jacket, wrapped a scarf around his neck. “Do you think we’ll see any cool flowers?” 

“Probably not.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.”

They left the house. 

The sun was blinding, they walked in plain sight but it was the road. The cold and the monsters forgot the purpose of such things. For the first time, they traveled in the sunlight holding hands for the world to see and it felt nice. 

Past the shopping center where they first met was a vast suburb, a dangerous place to be because it was the territory of the cold.   

Cold people hoarded precious items because it reminded them of warm life, held onto trinkets and blankets as if they were suspended over the icy black waters of death. But the cold were dying away, and there was the rumor of monsters taking their place. But Atem and Seto had never seen the monsters, no, 

Seto blinked. Kept on walking.

He had never seen one. “No.” 

“What?” 

“Nothing,” Seto replied. 

The suburbs seemed to have been a gated community for the rich, it only made sense. It was next to a place where people used to spend all their money. The gates had long since been broken down, restructured, boarded, broken down, and put back up again. But as people became less and less, and the cold became less sane, less attention was put towards the gate. The right door was unhinged and knocked over. Since then, boards were laid over the top for easy walking. Dirt clodded everywhere, rust and stones. 

Maybe a year or two ago, this would have been dangerous. But neither of them had seen a cold person in a very long time- since the attack in the shopping center, anyway. Maybe now, everyone and everything was dead except for them. 

Except for the plants. They were living, they had not been forsaken by the Gods. 

Plants were nice. 

“Maybe we’ll find another record.” 

“Highly unlikely,” Atem snorted. “I’m running out of art supplies, though. Maybe we will find some stuff.” 

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe.” 

Their eyes were set on the upper district houses, the ones towards the top of the hill. They didn’t have time to check them all, the sun would set before then. 

The first house they checked had very little, it had been long since scavenged and left for dead.

Seto was wandering, he walked upstairs and went into a far corner room. A bedroom. But he only caught a glimpse because as soon as he recognized a corpse he shut the door. Walked downstairs quickly. 

Felt awful. 

“Are you okay?” Atem was looking at photographs on the wall. A happy suburban family. A mother and a father, two daughters and a son. A dog. No, Atem brushed away some of the dust. Two dogs. Atem frowned.  _ No cats.  _

“Let’s go,” Seto said as he secured his backpack and walked past.

“Alright, but are you okay?” 

“Let’s go.” 

“Okay.” 

The second house was much smaller, but more intact. The door was still functionable, and decorations were still in the front yard. In the grass, was a stone fish with an orb in its tail. An old, crumbled thing. 

Seto knelt in front of it. “I’m bringing this back.”

“I thought you didn't’ like water?” 

“I don’t like water. But I like fish.” 

“Okay. It looks heavy, though. I doubt you could carry it all the way home. ” 

Seto shrugged.

They looked around inside, and there was less stuff than they expected. But it was enough. There was a cabinet with games, a few decks of cards, and a complete Monopoly board. Atem grinned. 

“Wanna learn a new game tonight?” 

“Okay,” Seto replied. He stuffed the extra decks in his bag. His eyes caught something else. “Wait.” 

Two plastic deck boxes in the back, sitting on top of a paper play mat. He brushed the dust off of the cases and opened one of them. Gasped, because the first card  _ was the dragon on the towel he loved.  _ A trading card game.  _ Rare, so rare.  _ “Atem, look at this.” He took out the cards, showed them to the other. “There’s another deck too.” 

Atem grabbed the deck, rifled through it. “Hmmm.” Pulled out a card with a fluffy brown monster on the front. Smiled. “I like this one.” 

Seto looked over. Looked back at the other deck, stared at the dragon. “Why? It doesn’t look like a good card at all.”

“So?” Atem glared. “I like it.” 

“Sorry. Sure,” Seto scoffed. “He just looks weak, that’s all.”   
“Oh, stuff it.” 

“Sorry.” 

“...Haha.”

“Hah.” 

But there was a noise, so they stuffed the playing mat and rule sheet in a bag along with the decks, and they hid in a nearby closet. 

A small fit, they ducked under the jackets. 

They were both scared like small children,

Because they heard harsh and deranged breathing that only belonged to beasts. 

_ Oh Gods,  _ Atem thought.  _ Oh Gods. Spare us. Gods.  _

Heavy steps, dripping noises. Disgusting, it sounded disgusting. 

The lanterns. 

Seto wanted to cry from fear. 

_ The lanterns were warm, they would be found.  _

Hell would find them. 

Sweat and dirt on his hands, fingers holding the gun. 

Somebody or some _ thing _ would die here, right now. 

The heavy walking stopped.

A low noise that sounded like a growl and a grunt. Wheezing breaths and heavy steps drifted out of the house. 

Quiet for a moment, before the front door slammed shut so hard the windows rattled and Atem couldn’t help the small yelp he made from the sudden and loud noise. 

Then,

_ Then,  _

Nothing.

There was nothing. 

Seto let go the breath he had trapped in his guts and let his head rest against the wall. His shoulders fell limp. 

_ Gods.  _

“Gods,” he said. “Gods.” 

Atem was hugging him, crying softly into the crook of his neck. Seto could feel his hot breath, warm tears. “Why didn’t it kill us?”

“I don’t know.” Seto was honest. And he was still terrified. 

“Why didn’t it kill us?” Atem asked again. 

“I don’t know.” Seto wrapped an arm around Atem, kissed his forehead because he was glad that he still had lips, and Atem still had a forehead. “I don’t know,” Seto whispered. 

The sun would set soon, but neither of them wanted to move. 

They were both still scared. 

Children at their cores, because they didn’t have parents to run to. Because being strong only lasted so long, and they were tired.

Seto’s mind ran wild with scenarios, like it always did. 

He would open the door,

_ He would open the door, and the tar beast would be looking back at him. Mouth wide, disgusting arms that reminded him of the ocean would extend towards him. Snap his neck, and take his lantern.  _

_ He would open the door, and the tar beast would be looking back at him. Then it would look to Atem, and grab him by his jacket. Splatters of obsidian flew everywhere. Atem was screaming, Gods, he was screaming and so was Seto, he got out his gun and tried to shoot but the monster had already shoved one of his arms through Atem’s stomach and impaled him. Blood, blood stained his thoughts like rain on a windshield,  _

“Ah,” Seto fell to the side, in Atem’s lap, and he thought his head had rolled out and away from his neck. His stomach told him he wanted to die. Atem’s hands grabbed his own, and he shook. 

“Breathe,” Atem said, but he was panicking. He sounded so far away because there were screams in Seto’s ears. 

Breaths came in and out like those damned ocean tides during a storm, he had no control over them. He was crying, and Atem had his hand clamped over his mouth because his sobs were ugly and loud.  

Because, 

_ Because,  _

_ He had heard them before. _

He had heard the breathing, and the dripping. It reminded him of the ocean, and it reminded him of death.

“Seto, I understand you’re scared, I am too, but- shh,  _ Gods,  _ we don’t know,” his voice was a shaken whisper. “We don’t know it left or not yet. Please. Shh.” 

But Seto was somewhere else, and he felt a fragment of  _ something,  _ and he heard  _ something,  _ and his memories consumed his eyes.

_ A scream, cut short and flames danced in his eyes.  _

_ Mokuba. _

_ Flames danced in his eyes. _

Seto stopped crying, eyes rolling, sweat on his face. His breathing slowed. 

Atem swallowed nothing. Closed his eyes.  _ Gods, Seto knocked himself out.  _ Atem was too shaken and weak to even think of carrying Seto, he was too tall anyway. He had to wait. He hadn't heard the tar beast in a while and assumed it was gone. So he opened the closet door and dragged Seto out just barely, held his head in his lap. Fresh air. 

But the floor, it was stained black. Puddles of tar trailed outside.

He waited, brushed his fingers through Seto’s hair and every once and a while he flicked his cheek. Seto needed to wake up. 

By the time the sun set, Seto had woken up very quietly and apologized profusely. The walk home was dark and scary, but Atem was more terrified by the silent front Seto had put up for the rest of the night. 

Only when they were both in warm sheets did Seto rest his head on Atem’s chest and weep. No explanation, and Atem was sure that even if he asked, Seto was just as clueless as he was.

“Happy New Year,” Atem said quietly. 

“Happy New Year,” Seto replied.

Late into the night, when Atem assumed Seto was long since sleeping, he got up. Grabbed his lantern, and walked as quietly downstairs. His feet carried him to the room,  _ his  _ room. He opened the half painted door, and sat down at his desk. Put his head in his hands.

He had never gone so long without drawing something, without drawing Yugi. But now, he wanted to draw,  _ Gods,  _ he wanted to draw Seto. But his brain told him otherwise when pencil touched paper, and his face scrunched together. Harsh lines followed by softer, little lines. Subtle shading, harsh when he felt his breathing quicken. 

And he drew the tar monster.

Or at least, what he thought it looked like.

“It doesn’t look like that-”

The pencil dropped from Atem’s hand, and he would have kicked the desk over if not for the wall.  _ “Gods,  _ Seto!” 

Seto was just as scared from the sudden yell, and he shut his mouth and let Atem fume. 

“You scared the shit out of me!” He got up from the chair. “You… you know you’re not allowed in here unless I say.” Looked at the walls, looked serious. “I let you stay here, that’s the only thing I ask of you.” 

“...Okay.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.” 

“It’s okay.”

“Okay.” 

Underneath warm fingers was a drawing of the tar monster. 

“What do you think those things are?” 

“Cold people.” 

“How ‘come you know so much about them?” Atem asked. 

“I don’t know.” 

“Okay.”

“...They disguise themselves sometimes. As normal people.” 

“Do they?” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” 

Silence.

Seto sat on the floor next to the chair Atem was sitting in, leaned his head against Atem’s knee. 

“I really was scared today.”

Atem laughed, but he was sad. “I know. Me too. Hah. You passed out there for a minute or two. Longer than that, actually.” 

Silent, and Seto’s voice was quiet and his fingers gripped the soft sweatpants he was wearing. “Do…” Swallowed nothing. “Do you think Mokuba is alive?” 

Atem stared at his drawing. “I think you know the answer to that question better than I do.”

“...No.” 

“Well. Do you think he is alive?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why? What proof do you have?” 

“I…” Seto bit his lip. “I can… I just know it. I can feel it. He’s out there.” 

“Ah.” 

“Yeah.” 

“...Do you want my honest opinion?”

“Maybe.”

“I don’t think he’s alive.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.”

“Okay.”

“...Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” 

Atem ran his finger through Seto’s hair. “I just… seeing is believing to me. I saw Yugi live when he was alive. I saw him die, too. So… if the proof isn’t in front of me, I don’t want to get my hopes up that somehow, that person is still there.” 

“What if I disappear?” 

“Oh, Seto,” Atem spoke quietly with comfort. “I…” He shook his head. “I would…”

“You would look for me, right?”

Atem grit his teeth. “Let’s go to bed.”

“You would, right?”

“...Yes. Yes I would.”

“So Mokuba-”

“But I would be stricken with woe for the rest of my life until I found you. And if I didn’t, I would surely die of agony and starvation.” 

Seto blinked. “Oh.” 

“Let’s go to bed.”

“Okay.” 

And they did, hand in hand. Under warm sheets, they appreciated being alive and feeling fleeting skin. 

“Turn around,” Atem said.

“Okay.”

With Seto’s back faced to him, Atem started to braid his hair. It was comfort to both of them. Quiet breathing, no words. But soon, fingers got distracted and rather than the subtle brushing of fingertips against shoulders, Atem kissed his neck softly, and Seto sighed.

Leaned back into the touch, because they both held onto each other like safetyglass to the window frames of a car. They both held warmth inside, only hoped nobody would hit them hard enough to shatter them. 

Seto’s hand reached behind to cup Atem’s cheek, and everything felt warm and okay. Hands explored, lips moving to dust everything with affection. But it was only when Atem’s breath hitched, because  _ Gods  _ he wanted to  _ feel  _ again, that Seto froze and stopped his hands.

“Is something wrong?” Atem breathed, reclining back slightly. Realizing his hands were slipping below Seto’s navel, and they stopped. “Oh. Sorry.” 

“No, it’s just… Seto’s body seemed to shrink despite his size. “I’ve never had anyone, you know. I don’t know.” 

Atem’s hands shot back immediately, they kept at his side. “Oh. Sorry. My bad, I didn’t realize. Aha, you can, um, just let me know what  _ you  _ are comfortable with. Sorry.” 

“Don’t misunderstand me,” Seto turned to face him. Kissed his lips and then turned his head towards the pillow. “I’m just nervous and it makes me… not aroused, I guess. I’m still a little off because of earlier today.” 

Atem chuckled. “Yeah. Fear isn’t a big turn-on.” They held each other again, and the lanterns flickered around them. Seto was used to the light now. “Just let me know, okay?” 

“Okay.” 

They fell asleep.


	14. Famine and the Death of a Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Past major character death, and slight mentions of gore/violence.
> 
> This chapter is kind of a rough one, I'm grateful to anyone sticking around w/ me. :')

Early morning, and Atem was already up and dressed. The sun wouldn’t be up for at least another hour. Seto awoke shortly after, he watched Atem get ready.

“Good morning,” Seto said.

“Good morning.” Atem was packing his bag, smiling because everything felt okay. “I’m going out to collect some berries. I haven’t… had a chance to just go for a silent walk, so I’ll be going alone, if that is okay. Don’t worry, though. I won’t be going far, don’t worry.”

Seto closed his eyes, stretched his legs. “Okay. Have fun, stay safe.”

“Hah. Okay.”

“I mean it. Please be safe. Take your gun.”

“I know. Bye.”

And Atem left the room, left the house quietly.

It was the first time Seto felt truly alone since he met Atem, and it was odd. Uncomfortable, he didn’t like it. So he ate the small rations Atem set aside, and he packed his own supplies. Atem had done so much for him, he only felt it appropriate to return the favor. Maybe he would find rare berries, or a new vinyl record. He just wanted to make Atem happy.

It was March now, and the sun shined more often.

He carried minimal survival gear, he wouldn’t be gone long.

The forest beckoned, and he returned its call.

“A fine one,” Seto said to himself as he picked a wildflower. _Red._

Atem.

He found more, a natural trail of beautiful yellows and reds that slowly faded into a field of whites.

A beautiful clearing in the forest. But he ran back because his fingers were faster than his eyes, and a human boy lay unconscious not too far from where he was traveling towards. And he felt gravitated towards him because _oh,_ he knew this boy.

He knew those clothes.

Every flower dropped, Seto ran towards the collapsed figure. Breath escaped him, and ice took its place.

_Gods._

_Gods, Gods._

_Thank you._

_Thank you._

Like a man starved from food for days, he stumbled to his knees and shook a shoulder of the figure. _So cold._ But it didn’t matter. A mess, laughing and crying.

I was right, Seto thought. I was right.

“Mokuba,” Seto cried. “Mokuba. Hey.”

But he faltered, because the lantern at Mokuba’s side looked different than the one he remembered from years past. But it didn’t matter, no, it didn’t matter. Mokuba was here, and that was the only thing that meant anything anymore.

“Gods,” Seto shook. “Gods.” He pushed the cold shoulder again, and now he was worried Mokuba wouldn’t wake up at all.

_Maybe he went cold._

No. Impossible.

_Maybe he is dead._

No.

_Maybe this isn’t him._

Impossible.

But slowly, purple eyes that Seto thought he would only see in the thoughts captured in dusty memories, they opened. Gods, they opened, and Mokuba was waking up.

He turned to face him.

“...Who...?”

And then Seto cried, oh he cried harder than he had since Mokuba disappeared, he hugged him tightly and _Gods he never wanted to let him disappear from his sight again._  

Seto’s lip quivered, and his hands shook. “Gods, Mokuba I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to lose you. But you’re strong, you, Gods, you always,” he paused to breathe. “I’m sorry. I missed you. I missed you so much.”

Slowly, Mokuba’s arms embraced him too. “...I’m sorry.”

Seto nuzzled his chin into the crook of Mokuba’s neck. “Don’t be sorry.” His face was warm because he was crying. “Don’t be sorry.”

“No. I’m…” A small sniffle. “I’m sorry. I don’t remember you. I don’t remember anything. I just… woke up here.”  

Everything in Seto’s mind stopped, and slowly melted into cold. “Oh.”

_Oh._

It was quiet while Seto pushed away every red flag that floated through his thoughts. “Why?”

“Don’t remember,” Mokuba sobbed. “Don’t remember.”

The leaves fell around them and everything felt terrifying, but it was okay because Mouba was here and he was safe.

Seto started to walk, Mokuba stumbling behind.

“Let’s get you somewhere warm, okay?”

“Okay.”

“You remember that I’m your big brother? My name? Seto?” Seto’s eyes wetted. “Right?”

“I do.”

“Okay.”

The trees seemed to part around them on their walk, and Seto reminisced and told stories. But he didn’t ask questions. Asking was terrifying because he was curled in confirmation bias, that everything was fine and there was no possibility of danger.

“One time when you were little, there was a bad thunderstorm and you crawled into my bed and refused to let go of me. I tried to push you out but you scratched my face. Haha.”

“Did I? I’m sorry.”

“We knew each other always.”

“We did, didn’t we?”

“Yeah.”

Seto went to squeeze Mokuba’s hand and it shifted away. Maybe this was too sudden, it was okay.  

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

The sun felt great, and Seto was so happy.

“I met someone named Atem. He is like family now.” Seto smiled. “Kind of like… I don’t know. He’s my significant other, I guess. Boyfriend, I think. But we haven’t really talked about it much. We both know, though. We say ‘I love you,’ and stuff.”

“Oh, really?” Mokuba smiled. “Do you live with anyone else?”

“No. Just Atem.”

Mokuba frowned.

Seto looked over.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Seto smiled. “Okay.”

They continued, and Seto couldn’t wait. _Gods,_ he couldn’t wait to introduce Mokuba to Atem. His only worry was where Mokuba would sleep. Some part of him too, was prideful and wanting to tell Atem ‘I told you so.’

“Hah.” Seto laughed. Looked over at the face he missed so much. “Haha. I’m just so glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

And for once, Seto felt complete, and he felt that he had a family.

That made him very happy.

When they got to the house, Seto noticed that Atem had not come back yet.

“Your house is very pretty,” Mokuba said.

“I know,” Seto replied. “It was Atem’s doing. He’s an artist.”

“Hehe. He sounds nice.” Mokuba looked around. Seto noticed things. “Where is he?”

“Not home yet.” Seto’s hand froze on the door.

“I have a question.”

Mokuba frowned. “Yes?”

“You’re still wearing clothes that we found for you years ago. You didn’t outgrow them? They didn’t get destroyed?”  

Mokuba contemplated. “I got lucky, I guess. I don’t remember.”

“Oh.”

Seto tried to think of past memories, but they all felt destroyed by the presence beside him. Mokuba was _here,_ and everything else in his mind was pushed miles away. Nothing else, nothing else mattered now.

Not even the flowers he dropped in the forest clearing.

“Let’s go inside,” Seto said. “We have plenty of food.” His lantern shifted to the other hand, Mokuba watched it.

“Okay.” Mokuba watched the lantern.

When Seto opened the door _so gently_ , and walked inside,

Mokuba shut it.

But it was violent, and it shook the walls just like the day back in the house they found the Duel Monsters cards in.

Seto froze where he stood, and he wanted to vomit. If sweat could run upwards, it was, and it was cold. Stared at his feet, wide eyed, eyes wet. Heart pounding, fingers raw and shaking.

_No._

_No, no no._

_Idiot. Foolish. Fucking idiot. Idiot. Stupid. Gods, Atem run. Run, Atem, run. I’m sorry. Foolish, fucking idiot. Idiot. Dumb, stupid fucking idiot. Run. Run Atem._

“You…” He paused to breathe, because breathing was so hard, because he knew he was going to die. “You are, you,”   _breathe_ , “you are not Mokuba.” He felt like fainting which would be great, he wouldn’t feel death or pain, “are you?”

Mokuba smiled, gently walked towards him. “I don’t know who Mokuba is, really. I don’t know the first thing about him.” A bigger smile. “It’s curious, how I said I forgot everything, yet _you_ forgot about _me._ ”

Seto choked on his own words. But very quietly spoke. Voice trembling. “The other day. Atem and I, you, we hid. In the closet. That house.”

“Yes, I was there.” Mokuba walked up to him and looked up with dazzling purple eyes. Held his hand and it was so cold. “And you saw me kill this boy years ago, too. Don’t you remember? I certainly recollect your pathetic and selfish flee.”  

“No,” Seto shook his head violently. “No, no.” Cried. “No. No I did, no, I didn’t. No.” Closed his eyes, cried and prayed for death to come sooner. “No. No.”

But the memories assaulted his mind and choked the oxygen away faster than he could stop it.

He saw, Gods he saw things that his brain had kept away from him for his own health.

The visions were old and corroded, but they were clear enough for Seto to go into shock. The hands that pushed his body into the wall, he didn’t feel them. Nor, the sharp nails that dug into his forehead.

 

_The monster, it was there. Because Mokuba thought it was Seto._

_But by the time Seto had ran towards the directions of the screams,_

_By the time he had gotten to the clearing,_

_Mokuba was a bloody mess that stained the grass all around._

_Barely breathing, blood everywhere, looked at Seto with a wide and frightened eye. The other was closed and, blood. More blood. Tears._

_Mangled soul and mangled body._

_Mokuba tried to say anything, something. But only the first half of Seto’s name bubbled from his mouth before he stopped moving._

_And the tar beast, it smiled grotesquely like it did. Deprived expression, caved ribs with a bulging belly that reminded Seto of stiff corpses. And it picked up Mokuba’s lantern,_

 

It picked up Seto’s lantern,

 

_And ate it._

 

And ate it.

 

* * *

 

Atem broke into a full run when he heard shattering glass and breaking objects. Shouts. Even as far as he was, it rung clear as day because the world was _so silent._

“Shit,” he said. Set the apples down. “Shit, shit shit.“

Ran.

“Shit.”

The house came into view shortly after, and Seto was home he was nearly certain. But when he broke inside,

He almost wanted to shut the door and run. But he didn’t.

The couch was torn, tar splatters everywhere, on everything. Decorations, the porcelain cats destroyed. Against the wall was Seto, held suspended above the ground by the hands around his neck.

Soft hands that Atem knew anywhere.

Yugi turned, dropped Seto. But Seto didn’t run, just collapsed onto the floor and was still. He was bleeding and half awake, whining something quietly.

“Atem? Atem! I- I don’t remember what happened to me, but this man suddenly attacked me when I got home! He… he hurt me. But don’t worry, things are fine now.”

Yugi smiled, tears forming. Walking towards him. “Atem, I…”

And Atem was almost thankful, for just a second, that he got to see Yugi’s face again before he pulled the gun from his waist and shot him in the chest.

Yugi gasped, began heaving for air but all that came out of his lungs when he exhaled was tar. A crazed look, before the facade that was Yugi turned into obsidian, and it fell onto the ground in the rough shape of human bones and flesh.

Atem ignored the disgusting smell and sight and ran to Seto’s side.

A deep gash on his forehead that trickled down his face, more bruises and cuts. Blood and tar everywhere, and his face was pale. Sharp, short breaths. Hair that was originally in a neat bun was messy and stuck to caked bloody cheeks.

Atem didn’t dare move him. Not yet.

“Are you okay?” Atem asked.

Seto didn’t reply. His mouth opened just barely, but it closed again. Opened again, closed. Brow crinkled in frustration, and the sudden change in facial expression only made blood pour. And he cried.

Atem tried again. “Seto? Can you move?”

Nothing but short breaths. Atem sighed. Eyes closed in thought, then they opened and looked into Seto’s. Fear. “Seto, where is your lantern?”

A weak arm lifted to point at the tar figure.

“Gods,” Atem panicked. He grabbed a knife from the kitchen and dragged the body outside. It was starting to get cold out, the sun had set.

Dragging the knife down the belly, Atem bit his lip and tried to ignore the putrid warm smell of death and sin. In it, were four lanterns. One that was still warm from life and the God’s blessing, but the candle must have gone out within the last hour. One still burning brightly. Familiar intricacies on the bronze frames.

_Seto’s._

The other two were long since burned out. He grabbed them anyway, brought them inside to wash up. But first, he set Seto’s lantern by his side and grabbed water. Began washing his wounds and preparing them for treatment.

“We can’t live here anymore. That thing left a trail all the way here. Any other beast will find the path and know we are here. We need to leave tonight. Either that, or I keep guard while you recover and we leave in the morning.”

Seto nodded his head.

Seto swallowed nothing. Pressed the cloth to his face.

“Seto? Can you talk?”

He tried, but all that came out was a weak noise, and tears.

“...You thought that thing was Mokuba, didn’t you? And you brought it here, even though you knew there was the risk?”

Seto nodded his head.

“You’re a fool, Seto. I love you. But you’re a fool. You nearly got us both killed. And now we have to leave everything behind.”

Seto nodded his head.

Atem rested his forehead against his, despite the bloody water.

“You’re such a fool.”

He thought of the body. Yugi’s face plastered onto it. “You’re a fool.”  

And they hugged, there, in the broken room.


	15. A Chance Grain of Rye

There was no need to leave that night, neither of them could sleep. Seto was in too much pain, and Atem was tending to him. That, and every time either of them closed their eyes they saw distorted faces of the past mixed with tar and death. 

Seto still couldn’t find his words, because his screams and agony had taken them all away. So they sat in the light of the lanterns and Atem read books about time and space aloud. Bandages littered Seto’s skin. Hair pulled up to avoid crusting blood. Woozy and spacey from all the damage, he laid in bed and looked at the ceiling. Listened to words about human achievement, meaningless now in current day. Directions and stories of space travel that was now impossible. Studies in schools and colleges all since destroyed. 

Atem paused his reading. “I don’t want to leave here.”

“...”

“But we have to.”

Seto nodded.

“I can’t take all my art with me.”

Seto said nothing.

“It’s all going to rot here.”

“...”

“I’ll grab the record player though. I’ll try.”

Seto nodded. 

Everything felt terrible, Atem thought, as he watched the traumatized and wounded man in his bed stare at the ceiling. So Atem laid next to him, and held his wounded hand. 

Kissed his bruised cheek. 

“I love you, okay?” 

“I love you too,” Seto mouthed. But it was voiceless, soundless. He smiled, just barely. 

“I’ll be back,” Atem said.

“...” 

“I promise I’ll be back. It’ll just be a few minutes.”

Seto nodded after some hesitation.

“Okay.” Atem slipped out of bed and walked downstairs. 

The art room. 

He touched the walls, and it brought him to another place. When Yugi was still there, before he went cold. Before he saw the beast wear his face.

 

_ “Rumor has it, that the monsters use a terrible camouflage. They disguise themselves as the person you desire to see the most.”  _

_ “Oh? And how do you know that?” Atem asked. _

_ “The birds told me,” Yugi replied.  _

_ “The birds tell you many things, don’t they?”  _

_ “The birds also told me that your eyes have seen this world for longer than your lifetime.”  _

_ “What do you mean?”  _

_ “I don’t know. Ask the birds.”  _

_ “Okay.”  _

_ “Your eyes will eventually see another set of eyes who have seen the ages pass like yours.”  Yugi smiled. “But it isn’t me, no. Not this time. It isn’t me.”  _

 

Atem looked over the drawings, the ones where they traveled to different places.

To the moon. 

To the stars, to the sun. 

To the city, to the blue ocean. 

A drawing of Yugi petting a dog. 

A drawing where they were in a land with buildings made of peaches. 

Atem took them all down, stuffed them into a small suitcase. Took his favorites, left the rest behind. But every one of the forgotten, he placed a chaste kiss wherever Yugi was in the drawing. 

Felt his cheeks redden as he smiled, put a hand over his mouth and spoke through it. Eyes wet with tears.

“I suppose this is goodbye to the ghost you left behind.”

_ We’ll meet again as one. _

Slowly, he walked back upstairs. To the bedroom, where Seto was crying. 

“Don’t cry,” Atem said. “We do that too much.” Put a hand on his cheek. 

Seto said nothing, but he put his head in Atem’s lap. 

Atem braided his hair. “I have many questions about how this happened. But they’ll wait until after you get your voice back and feel better. Until then… don’t worry about anything, okay?”

Seto nodded. 

Neither of them planned on sleeping, still. The lanterns were kept much closer.

 

_ Dreams without pain, flowers. Sunshine, but not the kind that beckoned, it was half the day and everything was okay. Seto pulled the keys from the ignition, looked over at Atem and kissed his lips.  _

_ “You ready?” _

_ “Ready.”   _

_ They got out of the car and headed to the arcade that still had lights surrounding it.  _

_ Maybe it was the afterlife, who knew.  _

_ They had a car.  _

_ They were walking on dust that looked like cement, it whirled in tiny circles when they stepped forward. A world so right, distortions touched Atem’s vision, his face.  _

_ There were people, there were people everywhere. Children laughing, adults with purses and money and nice shoes. The machines were bright with colors and noises, moving animations on the screens.  _

_ Atem didn’t remember walking into the building, nor opening the door. But they were there, and things were okay. Things felt real. _

_ “Beautiful,” Atem said.  _

_ Seto smiled. “I know the owner of this place very well. Perhaps we can snatch a few quarters at the counter for free. But if not, I have plenty. “ _

_ “Okay!”  _

_ They were happy in summer tank tops, wearing each other’s favorite colors.  Time rushed past them in waves, and everything was blissfully unnatural. Atem accepted it as truth because he didn’t want to believe lies were real.  _

_ Not in this world, no. _

_ Instead, they lost themselves in artificial light. _

_ And it wasn’t surprising when in the middle of a particularly good game, Atem stood on his toes and kissed Seto on the lips. The game paused without command, and the room swept away into the clouds. Hand on cheek, and they toppled over onto the floor.  _

_ There was nothing beneath. Just clouds.  _

_ They kissed, and everything wasn’t painful.  _

_ But when the clouds fell out from above, it started to rain.  _

_ “Stop,” Atem said. “Take me back.” _

_ They were falling into the grey.  _

_ “Stop, please.” _

_ And Seto, he was crying because light was cutting into his skin, and tar was pouring instead of blood.  _

_ Suddenly desperate, Seto grabbed his shoulders. He was hurt, he was hurting.  _

_ “Stop,” Atem shouted. And he pushed him away, tears between them like rain. _

But he had pushed Seto away in the flesh, and there was a slight noise of pain. 

Atem opened his eyes, and the warm summer had passed into the cold he had been born into. 

“Sorry,” hands were quick to rest on Seto’s cheeks. Lips quick to kiss the bandaged forehead. “I’m sorry.” 

Seto said nothing. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” 

He didn’t hurt him, but Seto winced away from him anyway. 

“I had a dream that we were at an arcade.”  

Seto said nothing. 

“I kissed you on the lips. We were happy.”

Seto said nothing. But he inched closer, and wrapped his arms around Atem’s waist all the same.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” 

“...”

“I’ll stay awake now.”

“...”

And Atem wished he had never dreamed at all. 

When they became restless, they started packing their clothes and belongings. 

Small trinkets, essentials. Mostly essentials. 

Seto was looking under their bed to make sure he didn’t forget anything, when he found a journal.  _ Yugi’s. _ He grabbed it, didn’t read it. 

Not yet.

“We can come back someday,” Atem said sometime later.

“...”

“When the chances of more beasts knowing someone lives here goes away, we will come back.” 

Seto grabbed the map, pointed at his old home.

“I won’t live there,” Atem responded. 

“...”

“Sorry. But we can do better than that.” 

“...” 

By the time the sun rose, they had two shopping carts full of supplies.  _ Gods,  _ they were both tired. But they ate pickled beets, and said goodbye to the house. Atem asked to stay a second longer because he wanted to say goodbye to Yugi. Seto nodded. 

Atem shut the door, walked to the art room. Kissed the wooden unpainted frame.

“I’ll be back, love.” 

Brushed his fingers across the surface.

“I’ll be back.” 

And then, they started their journey. 

The lanterns in the monsters belly, they brought those too. 

Because,

They were going to the coast. 


	16. This Is for Our Sins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Atem gets a lil angry   
> Also some reference to murder   
> Usual dosage of sad   
> Though, I'm pretty certain that things from this point onwards will be a lot more positive.   
> So, thanks to anyone who stuck around.

The road to the coast was cold, but it was the only thing that kept them on course and routed in synchrony with Atem’s map. Seto healed slowly, and it was painful. Often times, they would need to stop because it was all too much and everything hurt. Now, everything was just scabs and bruises, because Seto was lucky. But there were tiny marks, cuts here and there that they weren’t sure would ever leave.

“Did one of these lanterns belong to Mokuba?”

“...” 

“When are you going to start talking again?” 

“...” A movement of lips. Frustration. 

“S…”

“What?”

A weak and pathetic sound.

“...S…” 

“...”

“...Sorry,” Seto said. But it was only a quiet whisper. 

“It’s okay. I just am… getting lonely.” 

Seto didn’t like that, so he held Atem’s hand.

And Atem’s hand held his. 

“I miss the house.”

“...”

“Didn’t think you’d respond to that.” 

“...”

“Sorry. That sounded rude. Forget I said anything.” 

“...” 

When Atem went to sleep, Seto stayed up. Crawled over to the bags, and pulled out the forbidden journal. The one that he wasn’t sure if Atem had ever seen it. 

Yugi’s journal. 

Read it. 

 

_ Biting my nails,  _

_ Biting my      nails.  _

_ I hate being nervous and I hate my nails.  _

_ They’re dead like my hair and I envy that they grow yet.  _

_ I wish I could be Atems nails.  _

_ Don’t bite me! _

 

Seto turned the page.

 

_ My mind rolls out of my head sometimes and tar seeps from my eyelids.  _

_ All the disgusting things in my body want to be free, and so do I.  _

_ This body is a home to nobody.  _

_ Then Atem’s hand touches mine, and all of my agony flies away like tiny bats. _

_ But I haven’t seen a bat in a long time. Shh!  _

 

Seto turned the page. 

 

_ A bird told me that Atem was special and I was not. _

_ But that’s okay because the vultures need food too.  _

_ Vultures stink probably.  _

_ But I think they’re all dead.  _

_ I hope the ocean has vultures in it. _

 

Seto turned the page.

 

_ Even if I lived a thousand years, my eyes wouldn’t have seen all the things Atem’s have. _

_ Because there are a million stars, but Atem is Earth’s only sun, _

_ The only child of the Sun.  _

_ But he doesn’t know that. _

_ But the birds, the birds, they know.  _

_ Shhh.  _

_ I wonder if he will ever see the ocean’s eyes again.  _

 

Seto closed the book because something moved.

“What’re you doing?”

Seto shook his head rapidly.

“Is this…” 

Atem was angry. 

“Where did you find this? You didn’t tell me  _ why?” _

Atem was very angry. 

“This was  _ Yugi’s.  _ And you didn’t tell me.”

Atem was very very angry. 

“We have to vacate and only take what is necessary after  _ you  _ messed up everything, and you keep Yugi’s possessions- not only that, but his personal  _ diary _ ?” 

Atem pushed Seto’s shoulders. But he was crying. 

“How could you? How could you ruin  _ everything?  _ I was happy there. That was  _ my  _ home, it took me  _ years  _ to get it that way. And now everything is ruined.” 

“I…” Quiet voice. And Atem listened.

_ “What?”  _ Atem spat. But he kept his voice down because it was late. 

“I wanted to learn how to be more like Yugi.” 

“...”

“...”

“...”

“I’m sorry,” Seto whispered.

“You aren’t allowed to look at that notebook.”

Seto nodded. 

He went to hold Atem’s hand. But Atem’s hand didn’t want to hold his.

So they turned opposite ways when they slept, and it felt so much colder.

But at one point in the night, Atem turned to face him. And he cried, cried for all that was lost and for what the world was. 

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed. “I’m sorry. I’m scared, Seto.” Confessions, because it was late and Atem didn’t know how to withhold anymore. “I’m so…” A change in thought. “I’m sorry. I love you, and I’m sorry.” 

Seto didn’t reply with words, it was quiet when he pressed his trembling lips to Atem’s forehead. Moments, here and there. 

 

They traveled onwards the next morning without speaking. Neither knew what to say or how to make things better. The morning sun was out, and the shopping carts they carried their lives in creaked quietly. 

“Only two days left until we reach the coast.” 

“...”

“...I wish you’d talk to me.” 

“...”

“But I get it.”

Atem frowned. “You had a nightmare last night. You were crying, I think.”

Seto said nothing.

“Was it about Mokuba?” 

Seto hesitated before nodding. 

Atem’s cart stopped, and so did he. 

Seto stopped too. 

“I wish you didn’t say you wanted to be like Yugi. I like you the way you are. You have as many flaws as any human should. Yugi was,” Atem laughed, “I swear he wasn’t human.”

Seto felt cold.

“I’ve been upset because I feel like I’ve lost a lot due to your actions. But… I guess that is what makes you human. That… the love you had for Mokuba drove you past what you knew could be a trap. And that love is what makes you good, in your own way. Just… be careful, okay?” 

“Okay,” Seto whispered. 

They kept on walking and they held hands. The shopping carts bumped into each other occasionally. 

But they stopped suddenly when Atem’s finger pointed to the sky.

“Look, look!” 

Seto looked his way, where his finger was pointing. 

_ And by the Gods,  _ Atem was pointing at a miracle. 

Butterflies. There were  _ butterflies.  _

“Monarch butterflies. I read about these, Seto,” Atem laughed, “Seto, these are  _ butterflies!”  _

They kept their distance so they didn’t fly away, but their wings, everything about them screamed  _ life,  _ they were alive. 

“Do you know what this means, Seto? They’re coming back.” Atem was laughing, and he was crying. “They’re coming back! The other animals, the insects, everything! They could be coming back!” 

Seto nodded, smiled. Atem held him close and everything felt alright. 

They sat down and had lunch with the butterflies. Atem was even kind enough to leave a small chunk of beet for the insects. But they didn’t come closer. 

Atem didn’t blame them. 

After lunch, Atem kissed Seto on the forehead. A simple gesture but it told Seto that everything was going to be okay. Bags were packed, and they left the butterflies behind. 

There were a few times that they considered raiding old houses for supplies, but they were both scared. Tar beasts still existed, and they were both too weak to fight.

Seto didn’t want to see Mokuba’s ghost, and Atem didn’t want to see Yugi’s. 

Discrages to the Gods, the beasts were. 

“Here, we are here.” Atem pointed to the map, the road was at a landmark destination. Some giant hill. “We have about a day left. The coastal town we are trying to get to is here. There should be plenty of empty houses we could live in. But it won’t be as safe as…” Atem bit his lip and he didn’t look at Seto. “It won’t be as safe as the previous house. But we can try. We will have to just be a lot quieter.”

Seto nodded. “Okay,” he tried to say. But everything still came out as whispers. 

They continued, and the road became an old highway along beautiful cliffsides. Landslides of old were littered all over, they had to be careful stepping over rocks. Floods, dust and old bodies littered the path. The road would have been much more dangerous years ago, when there were more cold people. More things alive, and less empty space. 

But since their journey from the broken home, they had not ran into one live being, except for the butterflies.

When they reached a fork in the road, the one they were planning for, they smelled fire. 

An unusual, rare thing. 

Because fires, fires only existed in souls now. The Gods punished other flames, and they were distinguished almost immediately. Only the lanterns, only the lanterns. 

Atem considered telling Seto to remain quiet, but he knew he didn’t need to. They both looked, and beyond the trees were four cold humans huddled in the warmth of a broken lantern. The air smelled of corpse and smoke, it was putrid. 

“Gods,” Atem whispered. “Gods.” Slowly and stealthily, they moved forward. One cold person they could handle. Four, no. Not right now. 

They found the body later. A young woman, late 20’s maybe. 

Atem starred. “How terrible.” Brushed at his nose. “How terrible. She could’ve been an ally, you know.” 

Seto nodded. 

Despite the risk, they covered the body in grass and leaves and had what little of a burial that they could. Eyes closed, for a moment, and then they moved on. 

After a few more miles, they rested their legs and their souls. Seto slept first, and Atem kept watch. He watched Seto sleep, how the fresh bandages on his skin shifted when he breathed. 

He also loved how Seto only let his hair down when he slept, how it formed around his face and fanned around the pillow they brought. It was getting sort of greasy now, they would need to find bathing water soon. Two of the four water jugs they had brought with them were now empty. They would need to hurry. 

Blue eyes opened, though tired. Arms extended, and everything felt awfully nostalgic. So before they switched places, Atem let Seto hold him in the night, stomach to back, and it reminded him of days long past. Hands held softly.

 

_ “One of these days I won’t know you anymore.”  _

_ “I know.”  _

_ “I hope you find someone else that can hold you like this when you’re sad.” _

_ “I won’t.” _

_ “You will.” _

 

“I love you,” Seto whispered.

“I love you too.” Atem smiled. “...You can talk all day if you’ll say things like that, you know.” 


	17. Death of a Quiet Man

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if chapter uploads have been slightly more infrequent. However, thank you, as always.   
> Comments/feedback always treasured dearly.

Early in the morning before the sun rose, they took turns bathing. It was Seto’s turn, Atem kept watch with a gun ready. 

Toes barely dipped in, skin naked and shivering against the cold. Seto wished the water was blue. But it was grey and lifeless. He glanced back at Atem who was looking the other way. It was different now, being exposed next to him. So he submerged himself fast and sucked his stomach in against the frigid feeling. He was scared but he liked being clean more than anything. It made him feel human. 

He wondered what it was like, back then. To have things like baths in houses, warm water and warm feet. And he wondered if there was anywhere else in the world that had warm water like the hot spring, or perhaps he ruined his chance at warmth when he let the tar beast into their home. 

But he stayed underwater longer, he wasn’t sure why until he thought- no, he  _ knew _ he felt a hand against his cheek and he saw himself when he opened his eyes. 

But the figure he saw wasn’t human, no. The skin was ethereal, and the other’s hair never seemed to end. And it was like all of the blue that he wished colored the ocean was compressed into the color of piercing irises. 

Perhaps it a monster. No, it was  _ him. _ The God who wore his face.

He wasn’t sure as he stumbled and waded his way out of the water. Cruel and agonizing fate would not find him today, no. 

“Seto, what’re you- hey!” Atem struggled to speak over Seto’s loud huffing, and Seto ignored him when he told him to be quiet. 

He merely grabbed his towel and mumbled that it was Atem’s turn. 

Atem didn’t question. He knew Seto’s imagination was a terrible place sometimes. He tried not to look at Seto’s body, it was still mangled from the encounter in their house. Bruises littered every clean space, deep cuts that had started to scab. He thought of the scene he first walked in on, his first reaction.

_ Yugi.  _

He wouldn’t dare say, but seeing Yugi’s face again was the reason he was most upset with Seto.  Because when he saw Yugi for the last time before that, it was the first time in weeks he had seen him look so  _ alive.  _

 

_ Yugi had stopped walking a while ago, so Atem carried him to the coast. _

_ It hadn’t stopped raining all day. _

_ Atem’s arms had gotten tired, so they stopped in the shade of rocks and trees. A tiny cove made just for them.  _

_ Yugi was wrapped tightly in blankets, and he still shivered.  _

_ “I’m cold.” _

_ “I know.”  _

_ “It’s sad, you know.” _

_ “Hmmm?”  _

_ “I’d rather eat the sun than your delicious canned beets.”  _

_ “...Oh.” _

_ “Truthfully, I want to eat your lantern, because my stomach wouldn’t feel so cold anymore.”  _

_ “Oh.”  _

_ “If you let me, I won’t eat your food anymore. When I die, you can just cut me open and take the lantern back.”  _

_ “Tell me a story, Yugi.”  _

_ Yugi shifted in the blankets. Looked at the sky. Smiled, but he looked like he was going to cry. Greasy blonde bangs stuck to his cheeks. “I can’t think of stories anymore. I’m too cold.”   _

_ Atem sat with his knees pulled to his chest. Watched Yugi look elsewhere. “Just try.” _

_ “Okay.” Yugi turned to look at him. “You can’t tell anyone this. Shhhh. The birds will get mad.”  _

_ “Okay.”  _

_ “When I was little, before I met you, that’s when I met the bird. A phoenix. He told me secrets.”  _

_ “What’s a phoenix?” _

_ “Shhh.” _

_ “Okay.” _

_ “In my dreams, the phoenix always spoke to me.” Yugi smiled. “You know how I gave you life, but I never told you who gave me mine?”  _

_ “Yeah?” _

_ “It was the phoenix. I woke up and the lantern was lit. But I knew it was the phoenix.” _

_ Atem listened.  _

_ “And the phoenix told me I’d meet you. And that I should give you the name ‘Atem.’”  _

_ Atem listened.  _

_ “And the funny part? The phoenix’s name was Atem too. He wanted me to name you after him.” _

_ “Oh,” Atem said, because he didn’t know how to interpret Yugi’s story. But he knew that Yugi’s tales always spoke the truth.  _

_ “The phoenix told me many other secrets, too. But I’ll take them to the ocean and give them back to the phoenix. I hope he isn’t mad at me for telling you these things.” Yugi shivered. “One more secret. One day you’ll meet a hippocampus.” _

_ “What’s that?”  _

_ “A horse with the tail of a fish. But maybe they’ll be a human.” Yugi turned and smiled. “Just like how you’re not a bird.”  _

_ “Okay.”  _

_ “I’m tired.” _

_ “Okay.”  _

_ “Can you hold me?”  _

_ “Yes.” _

_ “Tomorrow I’ll return to nothing.”  _

_ “Yes.” Atem wept into Yugi’s shoulder as he held his warm body. But he knew that Yugi was freezing. Like the ocean. “Yes you will.”  _

_ “I can’t wait.” _

_ “Don’t say that.”  _

_ “Goodnight, Atem.”  _

_ “Goodnight. I love you.” _

_ “I love you too.”  _

 

And that’s how Atem realized, after every fated dream, that Seto was the hippocampus Yugi was talking about. But he wouldn’t tell him, no, not yet. Because Atem trusted the birds just like Yugi did. 

But the dreams, they had already spoke to both of them. 

Atem dunked his head underwater and ignored the whispers.

 

“I’m cold,” Seto said quietly when they both sat near each other and waited for their hair to dry. 

And it made Atem very nostalgic. But he could fix things this time, so he wrapped his arms around Seto’s shoulders and they held the lanterns close. “Me too.”  

A few hours later they reached the ocean town. The welcoming sign had long since been vandalized and unreadable. 

Nothing seemed to be alive anywhere because the ocean smelled of peace and death. They went further on, quietly. 

“Do you think anybody is down here?” Seto asked.

“I don’t know,” Atem said.

“Did you go this way when you… nevermind.” 

“Yugi? Yes. I have an idea of where we could find a nice place to live.” 

“Okay.” 

“You got your voice back.”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“Yeah.”

 

They took a break because the carts were heavy and they were tired. So they sat underneath a tree and wrapped a blanket around themselves. 

It was nice, because there was a quiet hill and they could see anything and everything coming their way. 

They held hands for a while.

Atem riffled through his bag and pulled out a jar of pickled beets. Smiled. “Hah. Remember the first time I offered you these? You had that nasty cut in your shoulder.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Your face is starting to clear up, though. You don’t look as bad as you did when we first left.” 

Shared food, they ate quietly. 

“Yeah.” 

There was a sense of dread, being so close to death and rebirth. But it felt like home, and they wanted to go further. So they did, bags packed and carts full of what little possessions they had. The record player sat atop everything so it didn’t get hurt. 

Saltwater lingered in the air, and Seto hated it. 

It cut into his skin and the tissues of his body rejected it violently. He was so close to something better left unknown. 

_ His other self, the one from his dreams. The one who held his face in the lake. The violent God who capsized boats, the one that wore his face and his name.  _

He could sense it, that the ocean was that  _ thing’s  _ home. But there was something else.

The overwhelming stench of hatred and demise. 

Something terribly, terribly wrong had happened in the past. 

But Seto didn’t want to know, no, he wanted to be left alone. Left with Atem, away from the myths that spoke so close to his ears. 

He held Atem’s hand tight.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” Seto hated that he lied. 

“Okay.” 

“Yeah.”

“So I’m thinking. And, the safest place we could live is close to the ocean. Trust me,  _ nothing  _ wants to live there. And if anything does come our way, it’s only coming to die.” 

“...I don’t like the ocean.” 

“We can’t go back, though.” 

“Right.” 

“And the lanterns. We have to see the lanterns off.”

“Right.” 

“Tell you what. I’ll work on my fear of the dark if you work on your fear of the ocean.”

“Okay.” 

So they kept on walking. The warmth of the Earth whispered at their feet, because the source of  _ everything  _ was so close. They ignored the ocean town, for now. They would return when they found somewhere to live for resources. 

They both knew best, to find somewhere hidden away. Eventually they reached a cliffside near the shore, a single house sitting at the edge of everything. 

“Yes,” Atem smiled. “This will do.” He pointed. “Look, Seto. It’s nice and big.” 

Seto nodded. “Yeah.” 

Atem approached first, gun in hand. He would’ve trusted Seto with the same task in the past, but he was too weak now. They came too far for everything to fail. 

The house itself was beautiful, they were sure that a rich family lived here when things were nice and things were okay. There was a small gardening area not too far from the front porch. Good. Somehow, the windows hadn’t been broken into yet. It was in remarkable shape, perhaps because nothing and noone came this close to the ocean unless they wanted certain death. The water was an omen and ecstasy, everyone feared and yearned for it. 

Atem tried the front door, and it wasn’t locked. 

Everything was still clean and quaint, dishes done neatly and covered in dust. A table set for two. He turned, looked back at Seto who stood in the doorway. 

“Come on,” Atem whispered. They went inside, held hands. Every room was left perfectly furnished, too organized to belong to any normal human. They worried it might’ve been a trap. But it wasn’t, they realized so when they found the master bedroom.

Two long deceased bodies lay with hand in hand, pajamas still adorning their shriveled selves. Resting bones. And they could tell, yes, these were the bodies of old. Because there were no lanterns found, and they died peacefully in their sleep like everyone else did. They had lived in the golden days, before all the lights went out.   

“Help me move them,” Atem said.

“Okay,” Seto replied. 

They didn’t have a shovel handy, so they placed the remains a ways out from the house and covered them with nearby objects the best they could. 

“Let’s look for another set of sheets. For the bed.” 

“Okay,” Seto replied. 

The old sheets were carried out with the bones, covered them better. A new set was found in the bedroom, in one of the many dressers. They made the bed together. 

“Doesn’t this… feel weird to you?” Seto asked. Tucked the sheets under the mattress. 

“Hm?” Atem did the same on his side. “Oh. Sleeping in a bed where someone died?”

“Yeah.” 

Atem shrugged. “It bugged me for a while at the first house. But a bed is a bed, right?” 

“I suppose.” 

“And you slept on Yugi’s side at the other house. He was dead.” 

“I know. I felt him there.” 

“So did I.”

By the time everything was brought into the house, it was late. And they didn’t want to risk moving around too much, the lanterns were always easier to sense. But they took one small walk before the sunset, because there was a deck out the back door that went over the cliffside. A small spiral staircase went down, to the clear beach. There was nothing but white sand that blended harmoniously into the black nothingness. The water was the darkest color that they had ever seen, it put the night sky to shame.

They brought the lanterns. The ones that sat in the depths of the beast. 

Mokuba’s lantern. 

Seto held it carefully, observed the details. He hadn’t seen it in  _ so long.  _

He hated that it had finally come, acceptance. 

The overwhelming truth that Mokuba was dead. That he had been for years, because he held his cold soul in his hands. 

The bronze details swirled as fingers rotated it, and Atem let Seto have his peace. Stood back. 

Seto walked to the shoreline, knelt down. 

Closed his eyes.

 

 _It was raining, hard. Seto was nearly out of food, starved and alone. It had been a week since_ _he had ran away from Gozaburo. He waited now only for the ocean to hold him, because there was no other comfort. Nothing else that would feel like peace and release. So he kicked up sand on the shoreline, walked along for hours. It wasn’t long until he saw another crumpled form on the beach._

_ A child, naked. Unaware, not awake, because there was a lantern in his hand that had no flame. _

_ A new life. _

_ A new life!  _

_ “Hey,” Seto’s famished body stumbled forward, bony knees and worn shoes. “Hey!” _

_ He knelt in front of the boy, took the bronze lantern from his hand. Opened the small casing to his own, touched them together.  _

_ The small flame flickered, and Seto felt faint. Knew his life was being severed, watched the wax drip slowly. It hurt.  _

_ “Ah,” Seto’s body curled, fingers shaking has he tried to hold the lantern upright.  _

_ It hurt. The wax that spilled was his own blood, he could feel it. Maybe he wasn’t strong enough to share candlelight. Maybe it would kill them, but Seto supposed the risk was worth it. He had nothing else.  _

_ His body gave, weak and spent. Time passed by, and he waited for death to come.  _

_ But he eventually woke, his body dragged to a small patch of grass off the shore. Curious eyes met his own, a smile and disheveled long black hair.  _

_ The child had taken courtesy to cover himself with Seto’s jacket, the space between them lit with two lanterns.  _

_ “Hi.”  _

_ Seto’s eyes focused, and he recognized the boy. The one from the shore. “Hi.” _

_ “Thank you, um.” The boy sat down properly, smiled. “For giving me life.”  _

_ “No problem.” Seto sat up. Huddled against the warmth of the flames. He needed it.  _

_ “Do you have any friends?”  _

_ Seto shook his head. _

_ “Family?”  _

_ Seto shook his head again.  _

_ “I suppose that’s the way things are, right?”  _

_ “Right.”  _

_ The child smiled. Innocence. “I don’t like that. Why don’t we pretend, then? We could be family.”  _

_ Seto looked over. “What?”  _

_ “Our own family. We… I guess we aren’t related. But we could pretend.”  _

_ “We could,” Seto replied quietly. He understood, the naive trust the child placed in him. He had done the same thing when he had been given life, but Gozaburo was a bad man. So Seto accepted the child’s request, because he didn’t want another young soul to go through the hell that he did.  _

_ Maybe he could learn again, what family meant.  _

_ They sat around their own fires, talked about names and how fucked up the world and everything was.  _

_ Eventually, the name Mokuba was settled upon. And after they both had the strength to walk, they went to find clothes, food, and shelter. _

_ For the first time, Seto wanted to stay alive. And it felt wonderful.  _

 

He was crying. He knew he was crying. His finger thumbed over the open case, the remnants of a candle that had long since burnt out. 

“Mokuba…” 

He tried to think of more memories, but mostly the bad ones emerged. Ones that never existed. Of the monster. 

 

_ “We will make it, right?”  _

_ “Make it where?” Seto asked. _

_ “To the place where things grow and animals are happy.”  _

_ “I’m not sure where that is.”  _

_ “Me neither. Maybe it’ll find us.”  _

_ “Maybe.”  _

 

“Seto…” Atem’s voice was quiet. “It’s getting kind of late. I don’t want to draw attention. If… you’d like to do this tomorrow, we can.” 

“No,” Seto replied. “I’m fine.” 

 

_ “Big brother.”  _

_ “Dork.”  _

_ “Hey!” _

 

“Oh…” Seto sobbed. Finally, he willed his fingers over to the edge of the water. To the edge of everything. The lantern, he placed the lantern in the tiny waves. But the tiny waves weren’t interested, instead they latched onto Seto’s fingertips. Tiny fingers, little hands. 

“I…” 

He yanked his hand back. But the water came with. And he felt that presence, otherworldly and divine. The one that followed him everywhere, his dreams, his baths. His heart,  _ Gods  _ it was beating so fast, beating for two. 

“Seto…?” Atem stepped forward, tried to make sense of the dark forms. But Seto lurched forward, two obsidian hands holding his. “What the fuck?” Atem ran forward, grabbed onto Seto’s sides. 

But Seto, he was in another place, and the arms around his stomach felt like fire. The hands pulled his head into the water. And he saw his own face again, and he heard the voices of old. 

 

_ “You found him.”  _

 

Seto tried to speak, to scream, but water filled his lungs. Atem’s hands were submerged, around his stomach. The water stirred, the face of his own wavered. 

 

The God closed his eyes. Cried celestial tears of jealousy that stained the water around Seto.

 

_ “Warmth.”  _

 

The hands suddenly let go, and Atem pulled Seto back violently. They both collapsed on the beach, Seto gasping for air. Spitting up water. 

“What… What the fuck was that?” Atem grabbed Seto’s hand, dragged him to a staggering stand, and they stumbled towards the staircase. “We can put the rest of the lanterns in the water tomorrow. We are going inside.”

“Okay,” Seto breathed. Coughed, looked back.

Mokuba’s lantern was gone. 

When they got inside, Seto changed into new clothing. Something warm, quiet colors. They ate what was left of their rations in silence. 

They both knew, didn’t want to speak. But they knew. The figures of their dreams, they were real. A past life, maybe. The voices echoed. 

Seto stared at the pickled beets. 

 

_ “You found him.”  _

 

“What?” 

Atem’s voice.

Seto looked up. “Oh. Nothing. That’s what the ocean said.”   

“Oh.”

“I saw myself.” 

Atem stirred beets around in the preservative water. “Sometimes I wonder if the dreams mean something, and the odd occurrences, or maybe we are just starving and hallucinating. Or something. Losing it. You know?”

“Maybe.” 

“Maybe not.”  

Seto didn’t reply. 

“Let’s get ready for bed. We’ll find fresh water tomorrow.” 

“Okay.”

Atem got up walked over to Seto. Stood behind, and wrapped his arms around Seto’s shoulders. It was caring, and it was gentle. He kissed the top of his head, and then his cheek. 

“Whatever lingers there, in the ocean. It’ll have to fight me before it can have you, and you better bet I can throw a punch or two.” 

Seto’s hand lifted, and he felt the side of Atem’s face. “I don’t think punching the water will do much.” 

“So you think. You just wait. Haha.’ 

Seto smiled. “You’re so kind to me.” 

“Only to try and match the kindness you have radiated since I met you. You’re amazing, Seto.”

“Thank you.” He turned his head, and they kissed briefly. “So are you.


	18. Death of a Harsh Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while since the last update, thank you for sticking around.   
> Warning for vague but present sexual themes towards the end.

It was odd, sleeping in a bed again. So unfamiliar, but it was better than the ground. Sounds of the ocean outside. 

“We will have to find a good river or something tomorrow,” Atem said. 

“Yeah.”

“Maybe butterflies will be there.” 

“Maybe.” 

Silence, until Seto spoke against the lowlight of the candles. 

“I’m sorry if I mess a lot of things up.” 

Atem shifted. “You don’t. Life is just cruel, and it toys with us more than we deserve, I suppose.”

“Maybe.” 

“Turn around.” 

Seto did, faced Atem. Saw him in a different light, because this was a new bedroom. Stained with memories of old, when things were okay and the world was bright. The walls of the room were still untampered, beautiful because there was a single stained glass window above the bed. And it reminded Seto of old stories. 

“Do you believe in the Gods?” Seto asked.

Atem looked up in thought, how the colored glass painted the walls. 

It reminded him of churches, but he had never been to one. Most of them were destroyed.  

“Yes. I think I do.” Atem smiled, leaned closer. “I think Yugi met a God once, you know. And the dreams we share… they’re interesting, aren’t they?” 

But they didn’t talk about the water.

“I suppose they are.” 

“Don’t tell anyone this…” Atem laughed, quietly. “Who am I kidding? For all we know, we are the last living and sane people on this damn planet. But… I think we were created in the images of Gods. And… I think those two gods, the phoenix and the hippocampus, they were lovers.” 

“I know,” Seto said. 

“You know?” 

“I think I realized it when we were in the hotspring. And earlier, in the water. The dreams, too. But I used to tell myself that those were just coincidences. I think, the Gods that haunt us are looking for each other.” 

Closer, they held each other in warm sheets. New clothes, tired bodies. 

“Do you believe…” Atem paused. He didn’t want to sound stupid. “Do you believe that this is one big act of fate? Not, not just us. Everything. The lanterns, the end of all life. The return of it.” 

“If this is an act of fate, then the Gods are cruel.” 

Atem shrugged. “Humans are pretty cruel too.” 

“Yeah.”

“Let’s just try… let’s just keep being nice.” Atem smiled. Kissed Seto’s cheek, a soft sound against the dark. “Maybe the Gods will let us see more butterflies.” 

“Maybe.” 

They fell asleep to the sounds of the ocean.

Weary from travel, they slept in. But the sun, when it finally rose it did a beautiful thing. The stained glass lit up the room in beautiful colors, and it was like waking up in a painting. And  _ Gods,  _ it was warm out. The cold season was going away, and they hoped for flowers that would most likely never come. 

Conversation was beckoned by the sunny weather, and they both decided over breakfast that fresh water was next to be targeted. Atem traced his finger over the illustrations of water on the map he carried. 

“There. There’s a small body of water before the river dumps off into the ocean.” 

“Okay.” 

“It’s only about a fifteen minute walk, I suppose.” 

“Okay.” 

They left the house, hand in hand. 

“Maybe we can wash some clothes down there later.” 

“Sure,” Seto replied.

The walk was short, and the clearing was beautiful. Untouched for years. An old vacation spot, an old dock and warning posts about swimming alone. No dogs off the leash.

“Perfect,” Atem nudged Seto’s side. “Let’s go test it out, yeah?” 

“Okay.” But Seto didn’t move.

Atem stripped himself, decided to play risk. “Bet I can jump farther than you.” 

Seto frowned. “I’m not jumping in.” Truthfully, Seto didn’t want to be anywhere near the water. No, not after last night. 

So he watched as Atem’s skin absorbed the sun, as he glowed. 

“Let’s pray there isn’t any glass,” Atem muttered as he ran forward. Bare feet against aged and thick plastic, the slight shift of the water as Atem sprinted down the dock. 

Seto watched him fly.

He hit the water, and Seto worried. The water was an omen, and he was worried Atem would never come out. But maybe it just wanted him. Who knew. 

 

_ Warmth.  _

 

Maybe Atem kept the tiny hands away. 

Atem reemerged from the surface, laughing and swimming towards the dock. “C’mon, Seto. You have to bathe eventually. You’re all gross.” 

Seto just stared. 

So Atem held onto the dock’s ledge, stared back. “At  _ least  _ get in somewhat. Even if it’s just your feet. Wash your hair, or something.” 

Seto undressed without words, walked towards the dock. They were both decent, looked in slightly off directions from one another to avoid the obvious nudity. Not that it mattered, there were no morals in the world anymore. 

“Here, how about this.” Atem tucked his bangs behind his ears, folded his arms over the dock. “At least bring the soaps over here so  _ one  _ of us isn’t filthy. And I thought you liked to be clean. Pfft.” 

Seto frowned, picked up the bath bag and started rifling through it. “I am just scared. Yesterday, and stuff.” 

He didn’t want to see faces, hear voices. Seto made his way over, slowly. 

Atem smiled. “Set the bag down for a second.” 

Seto backed up a little. Felt the sun burn his back. “Why?” 

“Just do it. I want to... “ Atem shrugged. “Kiss my cheek, or something.” 

Hesitantly, Seto knelt down. Atem’s arms lifted, gently to rest on Seto’s shoulders. A chaste kiss left on Atem’s cheek. 

“Got you.” Atem smirked, and Seto suddenly felt very, very stupid. Atem’s grip tightened, and he pulled them both into the water. Seto stumbled, feet sliding, and they tumbled into each other. The water was still slightly cold, and it assaulted Seto’s skin. 

There, in the deep, he expected to hear the voices of old. But nothing came. Perhaps it was because Atem was so close. He didn’t know, but he was thankful. He emerged to the surface, clinging onto the dock and shivering. “That was dirty,” Seto muttered. 

“So were you.” Atem smiled. 

Seto pushed him slightly before climbing back onto the dock. Grabbed the soaps, and they bathed mostly in silence. The sun felt nice, and the water was surprisingly free of manmade filth. 

Atem knew better than to stay for an extended period of time, leaving the lanterns as exposed as themselves was always a risk. They rinsed themselves off quickly, wrapped in towels and sat by the warmth of the lanterns. Atem scooted close to Seto, shoulders touching. 

“Sorry I pulled you in.”   

Seto shrugged. “I probably needed it. Still rude, though.” 

Atem kissed his cheek. “Hah.” 

Once they were dry enough, they walked upstream to bottle water, and they went home. It would have been smart to keep on working, getting everything set up and their lives put together. But the bed seemed so much better with clean skin, and they wanted to relax within each other. Soft clothing, fresh skin. 

Atem tucked himself in first, arms spread and awaiting. Seto followed suit, shed off his clothes and formed himself into Atem’s waiting embrace. 

They rested there for a while, like that. Warmth in each other, 

_ Eyes be closed;  _

And everything felt okay. 

“Do you think they’re coming back?” Seto asked. 

Atem combed his fingers through Seto’s hair. “Huh? Life, and stuff?”

“Yeah.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Fingers shifted forward, thumb brushing against Seto’s earlobe. “I had never seen blackberries or butterflies before in my life, so maybe. Who knows, maybe we’ll find a cat.” 

“Maybe.” Seto adjusted himself, rested his head on Atem’s shoulder. Closed his eyes. “I love you, Atem.” 

“I love you.” 

Arms wrapped, and eventually bodies were parallel. Heads resting on adjacent pillows, hands held between them. They took their moment of silence to stare at each other’s eyes, how the colors were otherworldly. And they saw the Gods in them. 

“Your eyes are pretty,” Atem said. 

“So are yours,” Seto replied. 

Hands held, bodies closer. They were both so busy trying to live that they forgot about the comfort of lips, soft gestures. They forgot about the daylight and pulled the blinds over the colored window. Atem pressed his palm lightly to Seto’s cheek, freshly shaven and smooth. Lips touched softly, meaning in the careful motions. Selfishness, selflessness, they both coexisted in their actions. They wanted each other for their own, but they wanted skin shared between them. 

Everything just felt so damn  _ right,  _ celestial and fated ribbons tied around their ankles that brought them into that bed, feet tangled and knees touching. And they both felt okay with it, the idea of moving past  touches that weren’t stolen away by the Gods. 

So Atem’s fingers tangled themselves in Seto’s hair once more, and he left small suggestions of advancement in the air. The way his breathing quickened, how his torso shifted closer. How he kissed Seto, tongue brushing against Seto’s lips as a small request. 

The kind acts were reciprocated, and Seto tried to keep up with Atem’s actions. But he knew, he had zero experience with intimacy and Atem had a lover in the past. He tried not to think of it, the idea of their actions being displayed in the same way, Atem with someone else. 

But it was with Yugi, and he seemed like a remarkable person. So he let it slide. Seto leaned into  _ everything he felt,  _ lips parted and tongues brushing against each other. He had never felt Atem’s skin so finely, hands brushing against arms that were so damn soft despite the rough world they lived in. 

Seto’s hands were shaking. These were pleasantries unknown to the current world, and he was  _ so damn lucky,  _ to feel like the people of the golden days. 

People who loved each other, the idea of boyfriends, girlfriends, dates and marriages. The only intimacies known to man now was the closeness of knives in each other’s stomachs, hands around each other’s throats. Fingers touching souls. 

“Can I?” Atem asked quietly. Hands barely tucked under the hem of Seto’s shirt. A suggestion. 

“Okay,” Seto replied. 

Fingers advanced, felt Seto’s hip bones, soft sides that were slightly sunken inwards from starvation. His ribs, the outlines of nipples. 

Seto sighed, nervously tried to mirror Atem’s advances. His palms shifted from arms to the soft fabric of Atem’s shirt, slipping underneath to feel warmth. Thumbnail grazing over his navel, and it reminded him they were alive. He loved Atem’s skin, the way he could feel his chest move with his exhales, his heartbeat.  _ They were alive.  _

And Atem, he never thought he’d feel this way again. Feel anyone this way again. But  _ Gods  _ he was a lucky bastard, and he found himself tangled in dusty sheets once more. 

“We can…” Atem swallowed nothing. “If you’re comfortable with it, we can dispose of a few more articles of clothing.” 

“Okay.” They both sat up, awkwardly pulled their shirts off and stripped to their underwear. 

Atem laughed. A quiet noise, it was nice. “It’s funny, isn’t it? We’ve seen each other naked countless times out of necessity and practicality, but… being… you know,  _ this  _ way. It makes it different.” 

Seto was quick to cover himself in the sheets, though the sun shone outside, it was still cold in the house. That, and he could feel Atem’s eyes on him. But he was no better, he stared at the way Atem’s bones pressed against his skin, the slight shade where muscles were defined. He thought of ancient artworks, full bodies and healthy stomachs. Wondered if food would ever become a pleasantry to anyone ever again. “Yeah.” He looked at Atem’s clavicles, how they looked different when he shifted his shoulders. 

“We’re both so skinny.” 

Atem shrugged. “Everyone is nowadays. But we still manage to scrape by, and that’s enough, right?” 

Seto kept staring, as Atem lowered himself back into the bed. “Right.”  

_ Gods,  _ it was divine, the way legs felt when they touched. Atem’s hands wrapped around, feeling the indents of Seto’s spine. 

“I know you’re not much for words, but just…” Atem paused. “I want to know what  _ you  _ want.” 

Seto shrugged. “I don’t know. This is nice.” 

“I know, but. I can tell you’re nervous. And I don’t want to do anything that will upset you.” He thought of ways to word it, word spoken in the past. “How about… you lead the way. And  _ I’ll  _ tell you if it is anything I’m uncomfortable with. Chances are, most things will be fine. Once you are more comfortable, we can… I don’t know. Figure something else out.” 

Seto stared, at the sincerity in Atem’s eyes. Saw nothing but sunlight and kindness. He understood, but  _ Gods  _ he had no idea where to start, or what to do. He only had the faintest idea, knowledge that was tucked in the back of his head. Not learnt but known, just like language and walking. He wondered how it was in the golden days, when people were still born as babies. When babies were still born from mothers. He had found books about parenting in the past, how to teach words and other things that Seto had known since he had awoken for the first time.

Babies seemed like blank canvases, alone and helpless without mothers. The children who woke on the shore, if they were lucky enough to be alive, already had the knowledge required to survive. Much like all the animals Seto had read about. Birds, dogs. Horses. Fish. They were fine. Just like Seto was. Maybe humans had their exception now, because no new lives were created. Only past lives that were recycled and repurposed in the core of the earth.

“Seto?” 

He quit staring past Atem’s shoulder. “Sorry.” Shaking hands. “Okay. I’ll try.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes.” Seto kissed Atem’s lips, rested his forehead against Atem’s shoulder. “Just nervous.” 

“I know. And if there is anything you want me to do, just tell me.” 

“Okay.” 

A sigh, and hands started to move again. Seto’s mind drifted, and his heart pounded. He was sure Atem could hear it. “Okay.” He held Atem’s cheek with one hand, kissed the side of his mouth. A soft gesture. Another idea. New experiences. Lips trailed, and they found Atem’s neck. Soft motions, lips moving lightly. 

Atem’s hands were on Seto’s back, outlining the shape of his shoulder blades. Seto’s fingers dusted down Atem’s body, to his sides. Legs tangled. He paused, suddenly aware of how aroused he was.  _ Embarrassing.  _ Wondered what Atem would think. If he would laugh. They were just kissing, minute things.  _ Embarrassing.  _

“I…” Seto breathed in, his shoulders shook. “I’m sorry. I’m stupid.” 

Atem looked at him, hands cupping Seto’s face. “Don’t  _ ever  _ say you’re stupid. But. Why say it? Is something wrong?” 

Seto bit his lip.  _ “How  _ comfortable are you? With… me. My body. Yours. I just…” He shifted, went to lay on his side. “I don’t want to embarass myself.” 

Atem turned to face him. “What? Because of being aroused?” He shrugged. Smiled. “It’s normal. Plus, I’d want to know if you  _ weren’t.  _ That would just tell me… I don’t know. You’d rather be playing cards than messing around in bed with me. Which would be fine, too.”

Seto frowned. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Yes,” Atem sighed. “This is a chance to feel each other in a new way. Only shared between us. As long as it a mutual feeling.” 

“Okay,” Seto replied. Atem scooted closer, a hand on the small of Seto’s back. The other intertwined with one of Seto’s hands. There were no words after, only the slight sound of breathing through nostrils when lips met again. A sudden and sharp intake of breath, because Atem had pressed all that he was onto Seto, chest against chest, thighs brushing. And Seto could feel it,  _ Atem was aroused too,  _ the slight shift of underwear against Seto’s lower abdomen.  _ Damn height difference.  _

And he hoped to the  _ Gods  _ Atem didn’t mind, how Seto was in another place. But he didn’t apparently, because there was a shift in the sheets and Atem moved his thigh against Seto’s length through the thin barrier of fabric. 

And it felt like  _ nothing else.  _

_ “Ah,”  _ Seto pressed his lips against Atem’s shoulder, hands exploring further. To his sides, his rear. Everywhere he didn’t think he’d ever feel. He felt needy, wanted to know, wanted to experience  _ everything  _ he never knew. Things remained that way for a while, the gentle exploration of what it meant to move past the barriers of skin. Atem shifting against him, the ocean heard from past their quiet sighs. 

Eventually, Atem kissed his lips and spoke against his cheek. Small words, moving bodies. “Do you mind… if we move a bit further?” 

Seto shook his head, kissed him back and wanted Atem to push him into the place of no return. Velvet, though he didn’t know what it felt like. A beautifully crafted room just for the two of them, a small pinhole of light from the endless ceiling. Velvet and skin, as Seto felt Atem’s hands drift to his hips again. Further yet, to gently slide off the remainder of his clothing. 

Lips met perfectly, and Atem’s hand was  _ so close.  _

“Is this okay?” Atem’s voice was quiet. 

Seto nodded, hands on Atem’s hips. “Yeah.” 

And they went to another place. Atem’s hand was on him, moving slowly. It all felt so  _ new,  _ because Seto never paid much attention to intimacy or his own wants. The world was a dying and cold place, and he had done barely any exploring of his own body. He just forgot, because surviving and keeping his face clean always was much more important. But Atem was here, and he reminded him of pleasantries, of what it meant to have someone and feel their heart against your hand. 

Atem trailed small kisses, suggestions, down to the crook of Seto’s neck. He left his lips there, biting lightly and pressing his tongue against warm skin. His hand kept moving, wrapped against warm skin and Seto was breathing harshly beside him. Legs shifting, his spine arching. The pace quickened, and Seto’s fingers gripped onto the bed sheets, occasionally touching Atem’s face, his cheek. His shoulder, his sides. Everything. 

But everything came crashing down quickly, toes curling as Seto felt himself come undone. 

_ “Atem,”  _ he moaned quietly, and Atem shifted his head to kiss him again. Small noises muffled by Atem’s mouth as he finished, fingers curling to dig into his shoulders. They remained still, lips touching, motions slowing. 

They parted, small spaces between them. 

“That was quick,” Atem said.

Seto slowed his breathing, rested his head against the pillow. “Was it?” 

Atem shrugged. 

“I don’t... “ Seto sat up, still shaking slightly. “I don’t do stuff like this often. Or at all, really.”  

“That’s okay.” 

“Sorry about…” He stared at Atem’s hand. 

“Nah, it’s fine. Let me go grab a rag.” 

“Okay.” 

They cleaned up, and rested across from each other. Held hands. 

“Do you want me to… do anything for you?” Seto asked, but he was tired. 

“Nah, we should probably get going soon. We can just… rest for a little longer. Okay?” 

“Okay.” 

Seto slid his underwear back on, and pulled Atem close. “Thank you.” 

Atem bathed in the feeling of being held, closed his eyes and held Seto’s hands. “I just want to see you happy.” 

“I am happy.” 

“Good.” 

Seto’s breathing deepened, and he felt the world slip from beneath him. 

“Seto.” 

“Mmmh?” 

“One day, we are going to meet more humans.” 

“Are we?” 

Atem smiled. “Yeah. And we will make apple pie and set it out to cool, and hear dogs playing in the distance.” 

Seto rubbed his thumb against the back of Atem’s hand. Wanted to cry. “Tell me more.” 

“We will learn how to make new clothes, and, we will sit out on the deck in brightly colored shorts and eat watermelon.” 

Seto didn’t reply, but he kept on holding hands tight. He didn’t want to speak, just listen. 

“And, uh…” Atem thought. “Oh. And, we will have bikes. Brand new bikes. And we will ride down to the market and buy bread. And once the ducks come back, we can feed bread to the ducks. And there will be mothers, pregnant mothers holding the hands of their small children. The lanterns? They’ll be gone. Cold people and the tar monsters too. And the ocean will be blue, just like in the books.” 

Tears fell anyway, Seto’s cheeks hot against Atem’s shoulder. “And us. We will still be together, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“Because you love me.” 

“Right.” 

“And I love you.” 

“Right again.” 

“I wonder if anyone dies of old age anymore.” 

“Probably not.” 

“I wonder if we will.” 

“Let’s hope so.” 

“Okay.” 


	19. Death of a Godmother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (almost) Autumn, everyone.  
> Warning for mention of past death.

_ He had been holding the body for a countless amount of time, crying tears of gold that pierced the dead body’s skin.  _

_ “You were right, love.” He brushed Seto’s hair from his face, it no longer flowed like the ocean currents because the ocean was dead. “The humans are vile, they fight from fear. And now they have destroyed the blood of the Earth. I cannot find your soul, it is elsewhere.” _

_ Eventually, Atem stood. Held the fragile figure in his arms, and it threatened to turn him to stone. He gave Seto’s body back to the ocean, and turned to face the land that had betrayed him. Cried for all that was lost, and the land began to tremble. Curled on the beach, closed his eyes to the mess he was making. Screams, as his soul boiled up from the core of the Earth and wanted to destroy everything.  _

_ “Atem, what, what’s happening? What are you doing? Everything… everything is...”  _

_ The voice of a human.  _

_ Atem hated the sound, so he threw it aside violently. Only opened his eyes when he heard small gasps that were hoping for the chance of air and life.  _

_ And he recognized him then, oh yes.  _

_ He ran to Yugi’s side, smelled blistering and burnt skin. Yugi was holding a lantern to see through the terrible night. An outdated concept, but he saw the world through black and white, candles and relics. And that made him very special.  _

_ Atem touched his cheek, saw Yugi’s brilliant eyes dull to nothing but confusion and fear.  _

_ “Why?” A quiet, pitiful sound. _

_ “I…” Atem wept, spine curling over his body, head resting on Yugi’s mangled chest. “I’m scared. They killed him, they tricked me. But I didn’t mean to lash out at you. I’m so sorry, Yugi.”  _

_ Yugi, he smiled. “Us humans, aren’t we terrible? We learned fear…” he paused because he was dying, “we learned fear from you.” _

_ Atem knew then, that everything was wrong. That it was their intervention that plagued all, and it was time to begin again. So he captured Yugi’s dying soul, pressed his burning lips to it. A small flame ignited, and he placed it within the lantern Yugi was carrying. “Let’s go.”  _

_ He closed his eyes, held the lantern close. Head pointed towards the clouds, he made a wish on his father, and the creator God All. In exchange, he would return to the core of the Earth and imitate Seto’s death.  _

_ Let his soul become thousands of little pieces.  _

_ But they would be tiny flames, encased by bronze lanterns. Replicas of Yugi’s. He walked down the spiral staircase that lead to the core of the Earth. Returned to warmth, thought of Seto. How he missed him.  _

_ And when Atem fell asleep holding the lantern, the world went silent.  _

_ Everyone and everything on the surface of Earth died that night.  _

 

Atem woke in a cold sweat, sat upright in bed. It was still light out. Seto was awake too, staring at him. 

“You were crying,” Seto said. “Was it… one of the dreams about the past?” 

“Seto…” Atem’s eyes were wide and staring at nothing. “Seto, it was me.  _ All  _ of this is my fault. You died, and I ended it all. Yugi… I think he knew  _ everything.”  _

Seto listened. 

“The reason that the world is like this, is because of me. I killed everything because everything killed you.” 

Seto was quiet for a while. 

“...It wasn’t you.”

Atem said nothing. 

“They look like us, but it wasn’t… it wasn’t you, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“...Everything is going to be fine.” 

“I wish I could ask Yugi questions. He would know.”

“But you can’t.” 

“Right.”

Seto kissed his cheek, a soft sound in the dark. “Let’s try and get more sleep.” 

They both rested in each other’s arms, and they pretended to be asleep until the sun went down. 

But they both knew, despite closed eyes they were both wide awake. 

“Maybe…” Seto’s quiet voice, it spoke. 

“Maybe, we were born to fix everything. Reverse the mistakes of the past.” Seto felt lightness in his heart. “Atem… all of this, it was supposed to happen. Because we are going to learn how to do it right this time.”

Atem smiled despite how upset he was. “I hope you’re right.” 

Seto held his hand, entwined their fingers tightly. “We are going to bring light to everything.” 

“Okay.” 

They both got out of bed, and started unpacking their belongings. Ate apples they had found, talked about apple pie. The house was rather small, but it was two levels just like the previous one. A decently sized kitchen, a table near the sliding glass doors that led out to the back porch. They left the record player upstairs, near the bed. What little clothes they had were packed away.

“We should go to that shopping center again soon.” 

“It’s too far away,” Atem replied. 

“Oh.” 

The cards and games were stowed away in the small living room. There wasn’t nearly as much space as there was in the previous home, but things were okay. They learned to live in their new place, and things were lovely because new life, flowers, birds, fruits, they all started to emerge. Unusual things they had only ever read about in books and magazines. A small garden was started, and they learned to live off of what they had. Planted seeds, and they grew. 

The months passed, and they hadn’t seen a single cold person since their adventure to the coast. Soon, it was July. It was Atem’s birthday. 

Atem had forgotten, but Seto didn’t.

Seto got up early, left the house as quietly as he could. Brought a gun, went into the ocean town. He wanted to find  _ something, anything,  _ that could be of value. Something to make Atem happy. They seldom explored now, at risk of reliving terrible things. But Seto felt brave, and he felt loving. 

He found a small gift shop near the coast, tucked between buildings. Small and unnoticed. He remembered how chalked full of trinkets the old house was, how much Atem loved it. Seto smiled. 

“Perfect.” 

He brought the wagon in, listened quietly to make sure he was alone. Once verified, he started searching. Found many things, a porcelain clownfish. Just like that toothbrush holder Atem liked. Grabbed it. Stars. Pillows. He laughed, because there were souvenir shirts. 

 

**_Astoria_ **

 

“Tourism.” Seto laughed quietly. “Vacations.” Grabbed the shirts because they needed some anyway. He started to look deeper in the store, nearly dropped everything. 

Because, 

_ Because,  _

Next to the cash register was a record player, vinyls packed tightly underneath it. He blew the dust off of the cover, looked at the machine. Frowned when he noticed that the record player was electronic and therefore unusable.  _ But the vinyls. The vinyls.  _ He grabbed every one, jumped in place a few times because he was  _ so proud of himself.  _ But he stopped. There was a noise. 

He quickly set the vinyls down, and pulled out the gun. Controlled his breathing, prepared himself. Behind the counter,  _ behind the counter.  _ Readied himself. 

Another noise and a wooden bird rolled out from the counter. Seto swallowed nothing.  _ Something  _ was there. Hands still, he slowly walked to the side of the counter. 

Another nosie, and he raised the gun. Caught his breath.

The intruder came into full view, and Seto nearly fell to his knees.

A kitten. 

_ An honest to the Gods, small white kitten.  _

Seto blinked a few times, tried to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. But he wasn’t, and the little thing looked at him. 

And he stared.

_ Blue eyes.  _ The kitten had blue eyes.  _ Blue.  _

It seemed harmless, Atem had told him before that small cats were relatively nice. Apparently. The books said so. But he assumed all cats were gone and never coming back.

Seto nervously stuck a hand out, and the kitten backed up. 

“Hi.” Seto walked forward, slowly. And the kitten backed up again, only slightly, before it took a step forward. Seto chased all his bad thoughts away, that the cat might bite him and have diseases. Scratch at his face. Have an owner already, who would come out and kill him. No, he decided to take the risk. Because the kitten seemed nice, and Atem loved cats. 

The kitten finally took another step forward, brushed the side of its face against Seto’s extended fingers. 

And Seto had  _ never ever  _ felt anything so  _ soft.  _  Fluffed fur, white and pristine. Warm Maybe this was a gift from Gods, he hoped it was. Maybe they were saying sorry. 

But he didn’t want to take it from its home. So he got up, waved at the small creature before picking up the vinyls. Walked towards the wagon. But the cat followed him. 

Seto eyed the cat, started walking faster. The kitten caught up to him quickly, tiny sounds of feet on wood. He found one more item of interest, a box, within it was a “build your own” space shuttle. A puzzle. He grabbed it, and a few other things. But when he went to set the items in the wagon, he found that the kitten had already found comfort in the corner, digging its nails into one of the shirts he found. 

Seto frowned.  _ Was this okay?  _

Maybe the kitten was just lonely. Left in the world with no family, just like he had been. “Join our family,” Seto said. “We have room.” 

And he took off, rolling the wagon home with the kitten inside.

 

Atem rolled over, expecting to find warm shoulders. He found nothing but neatly tucked sheets, a small handwritten note on the pillow. Nearly illegible, but that was only because writing was a useless skill. 

 

**We nt out**

**Will be back**

 

**Seto**

 

He felt his heart freeze. They had decided,  _ definitely  _ decided that going out alone was an incredibly dangerous and stupid idea. Why  _ now?  _ When it was still dark out? Atem quickly slid out of bed, threw on a sweater and whatever pants were thrown closest to the bedside. Grabbed his lantern, and walked downstairs. 

But he knew,  _ oh  _ he could feel the familiar warmth.  _ Seto’s lantern. _ He sighed in relief, because he was near home. Seto was safe. Before Atem could get to the door, it opened and Seto was there. 

“Hi.” 

Atem laughed incredulously.  _ “Hi?  _ You  _ know  _ you shouldn’t go anywhere without me. I was worried, what were you-”

“Close your eyes.” 

“What?” Atem just looked at him. At the wagon behind him. Seto’s face. Because it looked like he was suppressing a smile. “Fine.” 

Eyes closed, and Atem waited impatiently. 

“Hold your hands out, but keep them close to your chest. And  _ please _ do not drop what I’m giving you. It’ll feel weird, but its fragile.” 

Atem moved his arms. Kept his hands open. “No,  _ this  _ is weird. What are you…”  _ Soft.  _ Something soft was placed in his hands. Moving.  _ Warmth.  _ Motion. Atem froze. Spoke quietly, enunciated. “What… is this?” 

“Open your eyes.” 

He did, and all his impossible hopes were confirmed.  _ Impossible.  _ In his arms was a small white kitten, sharp blue eyes that were looking at different places in the room. 

“Happy birthday,” Seto said.

Atem tried to speak, but it just came out as a choked whisper.

“...A cat?” 

“A cat,” Seto replied.

Atem’s hands shook. His eyes wetted, bit his lip. “Where…” Looked at Seto. “Where did you find a cat?”

“I was… looking for a gift. For you. And he was just walking around, and… I wasn’t sure if he had a family. He followed me home.” 

Atem frowned to keep himself composed, and he was surprised the kitten hadn’t jumped out of his arms yet. It was still looking around, kneading its paws into Atem’s arm. It kind of hurt but he didn’t care at all. “Oh.” 

Silence, as Seto watched Atem’s face contort. “If… you don’t want to keep it, I can go back today.”

Atem didn’t respond, just held the kitten out for Seto to hold. Seto took it back wordlessly, just watched. “Atem?” 

Rather than speaking, Atem slumped to the floor and started sobbing. Hands covering his face. 

Seto set the kitten down gently, shut the door. 

“Atem? Atem, I’m sorry, we can take it back. I think. It’ll be fine. I didn’t…” 

But Atem stood and wrapped his arms around Seto’s shoulder, hugged him tightly. Still crying, speaking between little gasps for air. “Thank you.” He rested his forehead against Seto’s shoulder, hands gripping his arms. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” Seto replied quietly, smiled. “Are you okay, though?” 

Atem pulled back, looked at him. And he was grinning wider than Seto had ever seen  _ anyone _ do before _ ,  _ tears all over his face. “I’m… I’m so happy.” 

“Good,” Seto replied. Kissed his lips. “So… you want to keep him?” 

Atem nodded quickly, used his hands to wipe his wet cheeks. “He needs a name.  _ You  _ name him. You found him.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, please. You deserve to.” 

Seto looked at the kitten, and it trailed over. Started batting at Seto’s shoelaces. 

“Cat.” 

Atem laughed, rubbed at his nose.  _ “What?”  _

“...Cat. Because, you know. There aren’t any. So it makes the name special. And I like the word. Short and simple.” 

“Okay,” Atem kissed Seto’s cheek, held his hand out to the small creature. It jumped a little before latching onto Atem’s finger. It stung, but it didn’t matter. “Cat it is.” 


	20. Requiem

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everything.

It was hot that summer, warmer than anything they had ever experienced. Most of the blankets had been cast aside onto the floor, and they put the lanterns on the dresser.  _ Too warm.  _ Something they never thought they’d feel, but maybe it was just the sun waking up. They had been raising Cat for a month, and he had gotten a little bigger. They had no clue that mice existed again, not until Cat had plopped one onto the bed and Atem screamed and ran downstairs. They had never encountered a carnivorous animal before (besides cannibalistic humans) but Cat seemed to do just fine with the little things that popped up more frequently than they ever had. The sounds and visuals were unpleasant to Atem and Seto-- it only reminded them of unpleasant memories. So they let Cat dine outside. But they always heard scratching at the door, and they let him in. 

As expected, Atem absolutely adored Cat. Seto nearly found himself replaced, as Atem spent most of his freetime with a book in his hands, and Cat in his lap. One of the new records playing. When Seto sat down next to him, Cat would jump down. Atem would act hurt for a little while, before deciding to hold Seto’s hand.

They started exploring again, and they ended up finding an abundance of blueberries, and even a wild grape patch. Atem had collected various seed packs and brought them with, and they found other means to bring life to the broken down garden near the house. They read gardening books, and most of them advised that the crops couldn’t grow where they were. But they did anyway, and they figured it was a gift from the Gods. Various fruits, corn, potatoes, and carrots were mostly what they had.  _ Gods,  _ they even found means to suitably grow watermelon. But they were still waiting for them to ripen, and they couldn’t  _ wait.  _

Atem spent most of his summer out in the garden, and Seto would go out to get fresh water and wash things at the river. 

The sun, too, seemed to stay out more than it used to. Everything felt so  _ alive.  _

Seto was returning home from the waterfront, two jugs in his hands, his lantern tied around his waist. Atem stood up from the wet soil, brushed his hands off on his already dirty pants. “Hiya.” 

“Hi,” Seto replied, but it was winded. He was tired, and good  _ Gods  _ was he sunburnt. He set the jugs down on the front porch before slumping down on the porch steps. “I’m tired.” 

Atem walked over, sat next to him. “I can see that. You’re dripping sweat. And you smell.” 

Seto frowned. “So do you.” 

“Let’s go swim, yeah?” Atem stood, held out his hand. “It would be good for both of us.” 

“Okay.” 

They brought the soaps, and went to the dock. Seto was first to get in this time because his back stung and the cold water felt so nice. Atem jumped in after, and they held onto the dock. Talked, hands overlapping hands, and everything felt so nice. 

“Do you think things are getting better?” 

Atem smiled. “Yeah.” 

“I like it.” 

“Me too.” Atem looked at Seto’s face. His reddened nose, burnt shoulders. “You know, you are just about healed up completely. You got a few scars, but everything turned out okay.” 

“Yeah,” Seto smiled. “I’m… still sorry about the old house.” 

“It’s okay. I,” Atem shrugged. “I don’t know if I would’ve done the same thing as you, but. But I might’ve, you know. If it was Yugi. I missed him, and maybe I would have let myself believe he was really alive and there in front of me. I don’t know.” 

Seto wanted to change the topic. But he kept on talking, and he pressed away his bad memories. “But you were quick to kill the monster when it was disguised as him.” 

“Yeah.” Atem thought about stars. “But only because he was hurting you. And Yugi would  _ never  _ hurt anyone for no reason. Especially someone like you. Someone just like him.” 

“Oh.” 

The birds outside sang. 

“Not only that, but… I remember seeing Yugi off into the ocean very well. I could never forget that. So I knew there was no way that could’ve been him.” 

Seto thought of all the things he forgot. But he didn’t know what they were.

“Hey.” Atem was reaching for the soaps. “Sorry if the conversation got a little unpleasant. Things are good, we have Cat, warm weather, and each other.” 

“Right.”

They walked back, clean and warm. Seto opted to take a nap and Atem joined him. But he only stayed there for a while, because he couldn't get Yugi out of his head. The journal Seto had found. And  _ Gods  _ reading it felt like violating a grave, but he wanted to know.

He wanted to know  _ everything  _ that Yugi did, press his fingers into his mind. The journal was kept under the bed, a mirrored action of the past. 

Atem slid out of bed, reached under and grabbed the journal from where it sat. Dusty floorboards. Took his lantern, and walked down the stairs. Sat in the living room, heard the ocean all around him. Remembered when Yugi left. Little things. 

 

_ The record stopped, and so did they. Arms wrapped, warm blankets.  _

_ Yugi sat up, just slightly. Smiled at him, brushed Atem’s bangs away from his face.  _

_ “I’m full of secrets, you know.”  _

_ Atem smiled. “I know.”  _

 

Atem turned to the first page. He remembered his handwriting.

 

_ Atem is sleeping and I am not. We found a new home, and we found new clothes. I found this journal. It reminded me of the times grandfather wrote his novels. But nobody is old here, because the phoenix wrapped his arms around Earth and cried onto it. Sometimes I try to tell Atem about these things, but the lantern burns my tongue and I have to stop. Maybe if he reads this journal it’ll burst into flames. Hehe.  _

_ The phoenix liked games, I’m not allowed to cheat.  _

_ Nobody read this. Shhh.  _

 

Atem stared at the words. Grandfather? He felt his heart twist. He had never seen anyone alive past 40. That, and he and Yugi were both awoken around the same time. Same age. Yugi never spoke of a grandfather-- that also implied generations of a family. Those weren’t possible anymore. The phoenix, it must’ve been the God from his dream. It had to be. 

The one who captured Yugi’s soul in the lantern and hid in the core of the Earth. But that would mean that Yugi had a past life, and he remembered  _ everything.  _

 

He turned the page. 

 

A badly drawn cat.

 

He turned the page. 

 

_ I saw the phoenix today. I saw it in Atem’s eyes, in the blue water. Where warmth met the depths, and the two became one. I was always jealous of him. Maybe if my eyes were blue, Atem would burn my skin.  _

_ The hot springs scare me, I worry Atem might find ecstasy and fly away.  _

 

Atem swallowed nothing. Blue eyes. He turned the page. Felt nervous. 

 

_ I miss the phoenix. But sometimes I wonder if we ever met. Memories and dreams, they’re both just stomped out carpets that I sleep on for comfort and to cry on.  _

_ Remember when I pulled you from the cold? I thawed you by fire. I wonder if Atem knows.  _

_ I wish he loved me as much as the hippocampus. But I’m human, and my skin will decay before I can be loved.  _

 

Atem’s hands were shaking. He spoke quietly to himself, touched the words on the page. “I loved you, Yugi. I still do. Don’t…” He wanted to cry. “Don’t be silly.” He thought of Seto, upstairs. That Yugi knew they would meet eventually. 

 

He turned the page. 

 

_ Atem and I found another place last night. Stars between the two of us, and everything felt so nice. Atem said “I love you” and I said “I love you too.” But he doesn’t know he loves someone else.  _

 

Atem shut the book. Felt rotten. He knew what Yugi was referring to. 

 

_ The room was warm, and Atem was still hovering over Yugi’s body. Hearts pounding, chests heaving. Slowly, Atem leaned down to press his forehead to Yugi’s. Smiled, breathed.  _

_ “I love you more than anything.”  _

_ He felt it, the way Yugi stopped breathing for a second. He leaned back, looked at him.  _

_ Yugi was smiling. Doing something Atem rarely saw. He was crying.  _

_ “No you don’t. But thanks for saying it.”  _

_ Atem sat up, shook his head. Offended. “Yugi, why would I ever lie to you?”   _

_ “You wouldn’t. But there’s someone out there that you love more than me. And I just can’t help but think of that. I’m sorry.”  _

_ “...”  _

_ Atem just looked. Stared, a the sincerity in Yugi’s face. “That’s crazy. You don’t know that.”  _

_ Yugi brushed his finger tips against Atem’s arm, smiled. But there was something else there. It scared Atem. “I believe that you love me very much. Is that okay?”  _

_ Atem hovered a bit longer, before giving up and lying at Yugi’s side. “I would never leave you.”  _

_ “I know.”  _

_ “I mean that.”  _

_ “I know.” _

_ Silence. _

_ “...I do love you, Yugi.”  _

_ “And I love you.” _

 

It was terrifying, absolutely  _ frightening  _ that Yugi had walked with him, held hands with him and kissed his lips knowing that Atem would meet someone else. That Yugi carried the burden of being left behind and never said a word to Atem about it, only spoke in messy riddles. And Yugi knew Seto would be here. 

His heart hurt, and he carried the book back upstairs. He didn’t want to read anymore. Not now. Seto was still in bed, but he was sitting up, Cat nestled in his lap. 

Atem’s eyes followed his, because Seto noticed the book in his hands. 

“You decided to read it?” 

Atem put the book under their bed, sat beside him. “I wanted to know more about the dreams. And Yugi knew things.”

“Did you find anything out?” 

Atem shrugged. Looked at Cat instead of Seto, who eventually walked over and chose his lap instead. 

“Yugi…” Atem held out his hand for Cat to brush his cheek against. “Thinking back about everything he said and what I read, he knew about the… Gods, I guess we can call them. The ones that look like you and me. And I think…the God who looks like me lit Yugi’s lantern and guided him. Told him things.”

Cat eventually stopped asking for attention and curled into a small ball. 

“The two… Gods, were lovers. I’ve felt that connection through every dream. And I think that fate is what brought us together. Yugi knew this would happen.” Atem swallowed nothing. “He… knew that I would end up loving someone else. That person being  _ you.  _ And that he would go away.”

A long silence, only the noise of the ocean and Cat purring softly. 

Seto felt like being stupid, asking stupid things because he saw the way Atem’s eyes were red, how it looked like he was crying. The way his eyes lit up in thought when Yugi was spoken of. 

Seto bit his lip, looked at the crumpled sheets. “Do…” His voice was quiet. “Do you still love him?” He closed his eyes tightly, instantly regretted his words. But he wanted to know. 

“...Yes, I do. I always will.” 

Seto nodded his head. Cursed himself for wanting to hurt. 

“But I love you, too.” 

Seto nodded his head. 

“I’m happy for everything Yugi gave me. I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” Atem smiled, just barely. “But now, it is time to start a new adventure. With you, and me.” He wrapped his arm around Seto’s shoulder, pulled him closer. “I think we were born to do this.” 

Seto smiled. “Okay.”


	21. What Would There Be Out Here to Hurt Me?

The hottest days of summer were over, and they finally decided it was time to return to the old house. Not to move back, no, only because Atem missed small decorations. Drawings, the little electric lights in that cove where the record player used to be. Books, plates and cups. Clothing. They had plenty of food to bring with, plenty of water. They left out a dish of water for Cat, but they knew he would be okay. They briefly thought of finding a way to keep Cat close by, but decided that Cat was his own being, and let him roam. Come and go as he pleased.

Atem gave one last pet before they left. Seto simply waved, said “bye.” 

They set out, shopping carts in hand, conversation quiet between them. It was much warmer than before, and it was exhausting. The road was warm, and it burned their shoes. 

“It’s warm,” Seto said.

“I know. Feels nice.”

“Can-”

A noise. A shout. 

Neither of them spoke, they quietly got their belongings off the road and hid in some nearby shrubbery. Kept their breathing quiet, tried to look and see what was beyond. But the screaming didn’t stop, and there was laughing. But after waiting, it never got any louder or closer.

“I don’t think they’re coming this way,” Atem whispered. 

“Yeah.” 

They pulled the carts back onto the road, moved carefully and kept guns close. And the noise, they found it. In a clearing below, was a man by himself. His hands were extended above, reaching for the sun. Shouting, smiling. No lantern present, bundled in fabrics. A cold person that was bathing in sunshine. 

“Poor man,” Seto whispered. 

“Yeah. We should keep going.” 

“Okay.” 

By the time they reached the halfway point, the sun was down and it started to get cold again. 

“We made good progress,” Atem said. Stretched his arms above his head, unrolled their travel blankets. “We’ll take turns sleeping. Why don’t you, first?” 

“Okay.” Seto sat down, moved rocks and other annoying objects away from where they would rest their bodies. “Oh. It’s September 3rd, today.” 

“Is it?” 

“Yeah. Did you know that there was a spacecraft called  _ Viking 2  _ that landed on Mars this same day in the past?” 

Atem looked over, sat down next to Seto. Watched him get comfortable and take the ponytail out of his hair, run his fingers through it. Smiled. 

“No,” Atem replied. “Mars is one of the nearby planets, right?”

“Yup.” 

“Was anybody on the spacecraft?” 

“Nah. It just took pictures.” 

“Oh. Has anyone been on Mars?” 

“I don’t think so.” 

“Huh.” 

Seto closed his eyes, felt warm. “You know, it’s been almost a year since we met.” 

Atem frowned. “Really? Doesn’t feel like it was that long ago.” 

“No, but a lot has happened.” 

“Yeah.” Atem bent over, kissed Seto’s forehead. Decided that wasn’t enough, and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “Get some sleep so that  _ I  _ can get sleep.” 

“Okay.”

Nobody spoke, but every once and a while, Seto heard Atem rustling through their belongings. Smiled to himself when he heard the slight noise of the Rubik’s Cube being toyed with.  

 

_ He waited, like he always did. But there was always a warmth he felt as Atem approached, and he loved it. The slight golden glow from his body, Seto could sense it from miles away. Seto approached, formed into his walking body that he was only grateful for because it lead to Atem.  _

_ “Seto.” Atem smiled, toes gracing sand, fine golden jewelry around his ankles.  _

_ Seto stood to face him, warmed by the piercing red eyes he saw. “Hello.”  _

_ “I watched the humans today. They’re fascinating. A group of them crafted a wooden structure that allows them to travel over water.”  _

_ A pause, before Seto smiled slightly. “I don’t like that. I’m sure they’ll find me to be merciless.”  _

_ Atem stepped forward. “Now, don’t be rash. Have some faith, they’re only curious. Much like-”  _

_ “Nothing,” Seto spoke over him. “Nothing, like us. They’ll seek to ruin out of curiosity. Make a culture of killing.”  _ _   
_ _ Piercing eyes. Atem took another step forward. “And isn’t that what you plan to do? Kill them off for no reason other than your discomfort?”  _

_ Silence, before Seto took a step back and started to return home. “One day, they’ll consume fear and exhale poisonous air. You too, like them, are curious. And you won’t realize your mistakes until it is too late.”  _

_ “Seto,” Atem walked to him, grabbed his hand. But they only flinched away from each other because Seto’s hand boiled and lost its shape, and Atem’s fingers turned to stone.  _

_ “Incompatible,” Seto muttered. Hair flowing like the ocean tides he receded into. Turned, and Atem saw silver tears in his eyes. “Incompatible.”  _

_ “No.” Atem shook his head. Frustration shown through light, his body glowed and the sand churned beneath his toes. “We can… we will find a way.”  _

_ But Seto had already disappeared. Atem didn’t care, he stepped towards the ocean. Into it, but the ocean merely curved around him, leaving dry land wherever he walked.  _

_ It was Seto, Seto didn’t want to hurt him. Kill him.  _

_ The ocean spoke.  _

_ “I could immobilize you for centuries. Why do you walk into me? You were not created to display such stupidity.”  _

_ “Because you love me, and you won’t let me die. I’m smart enough to place faith and trust.” A smirk, as the water shifted around him. Walked further, until he was encased in an air pocket below the sea. All was dark, except for his glowing skin. “Are you?” _

_ The small space expanded, and Seto exposed his upper body. A small frown of agitation on his lips. “You are angry with me.”  _

_ “You are angry with me,” Atem replied. _

_ Seto looked at him, ocean eyes full of hurt and cold. “I want to touch your skin.”   _

_ Atem looked back at the God, eyes following the rifts of water. “Do it.”  _

_ And they both decided to play dumb, pretend that they weren’t designed to hurt each other. Seto leaned forward, and they both glowed in the dark.  Lips close, noses brushed against each other and it was painful.  _

_ But Gods, when they finally touched with the idea of intimacy, mouths trembling because everything hurt,  _

_ That was when everything felt okay. Seto’s lips burned, and he struggled to keep shape, their air enclosure started to waver. And Atem, his movements slowed because Seto was so cold.  _

_ “Se…” Atem spoke quietly against him. Seto shifted back, thankful that he had the ocean to regulate his body temperature.  _

_ “Return to land,” Seto said.  _

_ Atem’s hands shivered, and he nodded. Slowly, made his way to the shore.  _

_ They didn’t speak until Atem was normal again.  _

_ “I’m sorry,” Atem said.  _

_ “Incompatible.”  _

_ Atem smiled, spoke to the ocean before finding warmth elsewhere. “But we will always find each other.”  _

_ “Yes.”  _

 

“Hey.” 

Seto’s shoulder was shaken violently. 

“Hey,” Atem whispered again. “Wake up.” 

The sound of a gunshot pierced the silence, and Atem cowered closer to Seto’s body. A small noise of fear, before Atem started to cry. Seto sat up quickly, awake with an arm around Atem’s shoulder. 

“Someone has a gun. Someone other than us.” A panicked, small sound. Seto knew Atem’s state was only worsened by his fear of the dark. 

“How many gunshots?” 

“Three.”

Without words, Seto opened up the pile of blankets and let Atem huddle closer, he was shaking. 

The lanterns were hidden from sight, and they kept still. 

“It sounded far away,” Seto whispered. “We should stay here until the sun is up. We have our guns too, we will be okay.” 

“Okay,” Atem said. “Okay.” 

So Seto held the trembling figure through the night, until Atem was sleeping about an hour later.

No more gunshots, just terrible silence. 

They stayed that way until early morning, Seto could tell because the birds outside sang. Only about three hours of sleep for both of them, but it was fine. 

Seto shook Atem’s shoulder lightly. 

He mumbled something, opened his eyes and looked at Seto. 

“Hi,” Seto said.

“Hi.” 

“...” 

“Last time we came here, there were no birds. I can hear them now.” 

“Yeah. It’s nice.” 

“It is.”

They got up, traveled on the road for the rest of the morning, clear into the afternoon. Only stopping once to eat, and to rest. 

“Look,” Atem pointed. “The forest. We’re almost there.” 

Everything seemed just as they left it, but there were more flowers and everything felt alive. 

They held hands, and walked deeper. The house came into view, and Seto remembered what blue looked like. 

But something was wrong. 

“Get your gun ready,” Atem whispered. 

“Why?” 

“The decorations are different. Some are gone, others are moved. Someone has been here.”

Quietly, they closed in. Lanterns tied around their waists, still breaths. Seto opened the door first, gun pointed and eyes sharp. They both ignored how things were broken, remnants of Seto’s fight with the tar beast. But other things were gone, too. Items shifted, broken. Muddy footprints on the carpet. 

But nothing was heard. Deeper, they moved quietly into the kitchen. Nothing. 

Art room, nothing. 

“Upstairs,” Atem whispered. 

“Okay.” 

Seto cursed the stairs for creaking so loudly, how the house shifted when their feet did. Steps, silence as they entered the bedroom. Looked around.

_ Nothing. _

Seto lowered his gun. “Alright-”

Atem cut him off with a scream, and Seto couldn’t turn fast enough. 

Another person around their age had tackled Atem to the ground, and was wrestling control for the gun. The man punched Atem’s wrist, hard enough for his fingers to loosen, and he took the weapon and stood. Stomped on Atem’s stomach to knock the breath out of him for good measure. 

“Don’t fucking move,” the man hissed. 

But Seto didn’t listen, kept his fingers tight on his gun and kept it pointed at the mans head. “Listen. This is a two-to-one fight. You are going to lose, and you will die.”  

The man was shaking, Seto could tell. Lips trembling, and he looked like he had been crying. “Don’t…” he put a foot on Atem’s chest, pointed the gun at his head. “Hand me your gun, or I’ll shoot him.” 

Atem coughed, started to sit up, but the foot came back down onto his chest. 

“And  _ you,”  _ the man spoke at Atem, “you move, and I’ll shoot you right now.” 

Seto swallowed nothing, looked between the two of them. Closely, at the gun. At the frightened man. “You don’t know what you’re doing. Get your foot off of him.” 

Seto took a step closer. 

“I’ll shoot!” 

“...” Atem’s eyes were frightened and wild. Seto could tell, he was scared. He didn’t want to die. 

Seto suddenly broke out into a fast approach, and the man screamed.    
Pulled the trigger. 

Seto stepped over Atem and yanked the gun out of the man’s hand, hit the man’s cheek hard with the other gun. 


	22. Prepare to Die, but Sow the Rye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit rough, and there is a scene that could be interpreted as a suicide attempt, so please read with caution.

_ Seto stepped over Atem and yanked the gun out of the man’s hand, hit the man’s cheek hard with the other gun. _

 

The man stumbled back, fell onto the ground and held his cheek. Screamed in pain. Seto stood over him, put one of the guns in his empty holster and kept the other one pointed at the man. 

“W-Why… didn’t, it didn’t work, I-”

“You have never used a gun before. Right?” Seto glared at him. 

The man paused, before shaking his head violently. Started to cry. 

“Try taking the safety off next time you try killing innocent people.” 

“…Safety?” 

“Why are you here? This isn’t your home.” 

“It… it isn’t yours either. If, if anyone,  it’s his. He- he’s in the drawings downstairs.” He pointed at Atem. “Him. But nobody owns anything nowadays, we just steal what was leftover from the dead.”

Atem stood, coughed and shook his sore wrist. “Damn right I am in those drawings. I made them because this is  _ my  _ house.” 

The man backed up. “But, but nobody has been here for months. I- I found it and nobody was here. That’s why… that’s why I attacked you. Because you were intruders and I was scared.” 

Seto suddenly felt very nostalgic, because it felt like the first time he saw Atem. In the shopping center, when Atem had directed the cold people towards him to save himself. Everyone was just scared. 

“Are… are you, are you with them?” The man shook. “Why did you come back? You took everything. What more do you want?” 

“With… who?” Atem stepped closer, sat down next to Seto. Rubbed his wrist. 

“The… the gun people. They came here a few days ago. They, they had guns. I’d never seen one before then. They had a note that lead them here. And, they... “ The man cried. “They took everything.” 

Seto felt nervous. “What… note?” 

The man backed up. “I can show you. They threw it at me before they left. But, please. Please, don’t shoot me. I won’t try to attack you again. I swear.”

“Hey.” Atem stood, looked at the man. Noticed things. No lantern. “What’s your name?” 

“...Ryo. Can… you tell me yours? Both of your names?” A sheepish smile. 

“Atem.” 

Seto said nothing. Just eyed the man, thought about the guns. The note. Thought about running away. 

Atem sighed. “And that, is Seto. He’s not very talkative.” 

Ryo’s eyes locked onto Seto’s. There was sudden anger there, fright. Tears. 

“...Seto?” 

Seto said nothing. 

“Yeah,” Atem replied when there was silence. “Do you know him? 

“It… It’s all your fault.” 

Seto shook. Breathed too terribly fast, stepped back. And Ryo stood, walked towards him. Crying. 

“This, this is your fault. You wrote the note. You wrote it, didn’t you? You lead them here.”

Seto’s eyes were wild and open, but he couldn’t look at anything. 

“What?” Atem looked between them. Confused and frustrated. “Seto? What did you… what did you do?” 

Ryo walked downstairs when Seto remained unresponsive. He came back, the crumpled note in his hands. Put it in Seto’s hands. Atem stood next to him, peeked over and read it. 

  
  


_ Mokuba, _

 

_ Welcome home. I have moved houses, but you can come find me here. _

 

A badly drawn but effective map and route from Seto’s home to Atem’s.

 

_ Stay on the road and you’ll make it safe. It is only about a two hour walk, so leave at sunrise. Pack food and be safe, I hope you made it here healthy, and that the world has been kind to you. I love you dearly and miss you. _

 

_ Best regards from your brother. I love you. I hope you’ve been combing your hair and brushing your teeth. But above all, I hope you are safe and happy. _

 

_ Seto _

 

The room felt uncomfortable. Seto kept his eyes unfocused, looking somewhere at the words but everything felt cold and rotten. Atem had a hand over his mouth, said nothing. 

So Ryo spoke. 

“They… they came here. All of them had guns. Said something about a fool that left a military base with tons of weapons. Directions that lead here, and they were looking for lanterns.” Ryo smiled, but he wasn't happy. “They took mine. Left me here to die. If… if you… they never would have came here if you didn’t... “ Ryo sat on the floor. Combed his shaking fingers through unnaturally white hair. “I’m dying because of them. That note. Because of that note.”

Quiet. Seto decided to destroy himself and look at Atem’s eyes. 

Saw nothing but bewilderment, anger, and betrayal. 

“Seto… you.” 

Seto stared into his eyes. All of the emotions he saw.

 

_ You ruin everything. _

 

He handed the other gun to Atem, and he ran. Ran down the stairs, untied the lantern from his belt.

“Seto!” 

Atem’s voice.

Placed the lantern next to the door, and he ran. Left the house behind, stumbled into the forest. Thought of everything. How he let the tar monster destroy their home. Atem’s face when he saw Yugi’s journal in his hands. The note. 

Tried to ignore the sound of voices behind him, wanted to get as far away from  _ everything  _ as he could. Expected the cold to hold him, but it never came. He only stopped when his foot collided with a dead stump and he fell down. Seto cried into the soil, hoped that it would take him. 

_ “Gods…”  _ Seto dug his fingernails into his scalp. Curled into himself, shook and breathed harshly. 

Footsteps were heard nearby, and he knew Atem was coming. Imagined everything. All the things he wanted. 

 

_ The footsteps stopped, and Atem yanked his shoulder to face him.  _

_ “You are a murderer. This boy is dying because of you. You don’t deserve life, your lantern belongs to him now.”  _

 

_ The footsteps stopped, and Atem yanked his shoulder to face him. “My love was never yours.” _

_ “Waste of space.”  _

 

Seto wanted to throw up. 

 

_ “Leave.”  _

 

He tried to catch his breath, but everything in his body wanted to come out. He crawled over next to a nearby tree, hunched over and began to dry heave. His stomach was empty, but it felt full of tar and disgust. He imagined what it would be like to throw up all that he was, let it sink into the ground and leave his skin pale. 

 

The footsteps finally reached him, and Seto kept his eyes shut. Gagged, coughed. 

But he didn’t expect the soft hand to rest on his shoulder, to feel the warmth of his lantern set beside him. He didn’t look.

“...Tell me what happened. I’ll reserve saying anything until after you finish.”

It was a while until Seto finally started to speak, once he was sure he could breathe.

“When… when you decided to let me stay with you. And we travelled to my old home. The military base. I…” Seto started to cry. “I was still hopeful that Mokuba was alive back then. I thought… he might find his way back home. So I left directions explaining how to find me on his bed. How the others found their way in, I’m not sure. Mokuba knew the way, but he was the only other one. I swear. They must have just broke in forcefully. I should have told you when we were there, but I knew you’d talk me out of leaving the letter. Because it had the risk of… this. I just wanted to see Mokuba. If he was alive, I didn’t want him to be alone. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I swear, I swear I didn’t. But me saying all this doesn’t change anything. That man is going to die. I did this. Oh Gods, I’m so sorry. Gods.” 

Atem’s hand was still light on his back. 

“I…” Seto started to sob harder now, the kind of woe that made his stomach tremble and his nose run. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I just was blind in my hope that I could see my brother again.” He dug his fingers into the soil,  _ Gods  _ he wanted the Earth to take him. “My ignorance and naivety has done nothing but put people in danger. You… and him. Ryo.”  _ Mokuba. _ “Everything would have been fine if you never let me stay with you. Never met me at all. I. I-”

“Seto,” Atem interrupted sternly. But his voice soon softened, and he shifted to kneel in front of him. “Stop.” Softer. “Please.” 

“...” 

“You have caused a fair amount of trouble for me. That is true. But nothing you ever did was intentionally hurtful. Things get… complicated when you love someone. That love means blind faith, and it can put others in danger. I understand your guilt. But…” Atem sighed. “Running away won't fix this, and either will giving up your life.” 

Seto choked and coughed, rested his forehead against the wet dirt. 

“...The least we can do now, is take Ryo to the coast. I don’t, and I’m sure you don’t, want him to end up like everyone else. We barely know him, I know. But I think we owe him after… what happened. He still has his sanity, if we leave now we can get him to the shore before he goes completely cold.” 

Seto nodded, a shaken and small gesture. Atem lifted his head slightly. Pressed his lips to Seto’s forehead, softer and slower than he ever had before. Smiled. But it was sad. “I know you didn’t mean to hurt anyone. You would never. It was the people that broke into your old home and mine. _They_ hurt Ryo and took advantage of your love. We are the good guys. Okay?” 

Atem pet Seto’s hair, ran his fingers through it and untangled the bits that had dirt. Let him cry onto his jacket. 

“We are the good guys,” Atem said, his eyes staring past Seto’s shoulder at nothing in particular, and his mouth was neither smiling or frowning.

They sat there in the soil for a while. And when Seto was done crying out his worst miseries, they got up and returned to the house. Hand in hand. 

Atem’s was warm and dry, Seto’s was cold and clammy. 

Seto stood at the doorstep, watched Atem walk inside and his hand leave his. Ryo was waiting, leaning against the wall next to the stairs. Shivering like the cold people did.

“Hi,” Ryo said. 

“Hi.” Seto kept his eyes on Ryo’s worn shoes. 

“ ...Mokuba was your brother, right? Was he one of those men?” 

Seto looked at the shoelaces. How dirty they were. Frayed shoelaces. All shoes were dirty. “No. A few months after we moved here, I remembered that he died a few years back.” 

“Oh.” 

“I… know that it’s not helpful, but I’m sorry.” Seto ground his nails into his palm. 

_ Sorry for killing you.  _

“I didn’t… think about what I was doing. I didn’t think anyone would find that note except for Mokuba. I’m sorry.” 

Ryo tried to smile, but it didn’t work. “I understand. I was lucky enough to make it this long without a good weapon.”

“We, uh.” Atem spoke, he knew Seto was having a hard time making any noise at all. “You know about the coast, right?” 

Ryo nodded. “I want to go there. I don’t want to turn into a monster. I don’t. But I don’t know how to get there.” 

“We will take you,” Atem replied gently. Smiled softly, held one of Ryo’s shaking hands. 

A perfectly warm hand, but Ryo was shaking because his heart was frozen.

“Our new home is near the coast now, we… can take you there. To the shore.”

Ryo stared, looked between the two of them. Expressionless. “You… know how much of a danger I’d be to you, right? You don’t know anything about me. Even if you did, who  _ knows  _ how long it’ll take for me to become mindless and cruel. Thank you, but…” Ryo gently removed his hand from Atem’s soft grip, smiled politely. “I want someone in this world to make it. I don’t want to jeopardize that, so I’ll… have to decline.”

Atem shook his head. “I insist. It is,” he glanced at Seto, who had his eyes closed. “It was our mistakes that hurt you. The least we can do is make sure you return to warmth and peace. It is only a two day trip. Do you think you can hold together that long?” 

Ryo shook his head again. “I can’t-” 

“Please,” Seto said. Eyes open, and they were red and tired. “...please.” 

Silence between them, until Ryo laughed, a quiet raspy noise. “You two are crazy.”

“Maybe a little. But I think craziness and kindness are synonymous in this world,” Atem replied. He patted Ryo’s shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get going.” 


	23. The Timekeeper's Theme

Seto stood at the doorstep, watched Atem walk inside and his hand leave his. Ryo was waiting, leaning against the wall next to the stairs. Shivering like the cold people did.

“Hi,” Ryo said. 

“Hi.” Seto kept his eyes on Ryo’s worn shoes. 

“ ...Mokuba was your brother, right? Was he one of those men?” 

Seto looked at the shoelaces. How dirty they were. Frayed shoelaces. All shoes were dirty. “No. A few months after we moved here, I remembered that he died a few years ago.” 

“Oh.” 

“I… know that it’s not helpful, but I’m sorry.” Seto ground his nails into his palm. 

_ Sorry for killing you.  _

“I didn’t… think about what I was doing. I didn’t think anyone would find that note except for Mokuba. I’m sorry.” 

Ryo tried to smile, but it didn’t work. “I understand. I was lucky enough to make it this long without a good weapon.”

“We, uh.” Atem spoke, he knew Seto was having a hard time making any noise at all. “You know about the coast, right?” 

Ryo nodded. “I wanted to go there. I don’t want to turn into a monster. I don’t. But I don’t know how to get there.” 

“We will take you,” Atem replied gently. Smiled softly, held one of Ryo’s shaking hands. 

A perfectly warm hand, but Ryo was trembling because his heart was frozen.

“Our new home is near the coast now, we… we can take you there. To the shore.”

Ryo stared, looked between the two of them. Expressionless. “You… know how much of a danger I’d be to you both, right? You don’t know anything about me. Even if you did, who  _ knows  _ how long it’ll take for me to become mindless and cruel. Thank you, but…” He gently removed his hand from Atem’s soft grip, smiled politely. “I want someone in this world to make it. I don’t want to jeopardize that, so I’ll… have to decline.”

Atem shook his head. “I insist. It is,” he glanced at Seto, who had his eyes closed. “It was our mistakes that hurt you. The least we can do is make sure you return to warmth and peace. It is only a two day trip. Do you think you can hold together that long?” 

Ryo shook his head again. “I can’t-” 

“Please,” Seto said. Eyes open now, and they were red and tired. “...please.” 

Silence between them, until Ryo laughed, a quiet raspy noise. “You two are crazy.”

“Maybe a little. But I think craziness and kindness are synonymous in this world,” Atem replied. He patted Ryo’s shoulder. “C’mon. Let’s get going.” 

They spent the rest of the day gathering belongings. Atem was quiet when he opened the door to the art room. Everything was a little different, drawings in different places. A few were crumpled and thrown on the floor. 

Atem knelt down and picked one up. 

Unraveled it, held the paper like delicate glass that had long since broken. But  _ oh,  _ through it, he could see the memories he had. Exclusive, they were sacred. 

Yugi’s hands, sketched lightly, and they held his. Strings tied on their fingers, because Yugi had wanted it that way. 

 

_ It was raining, hard. Something that seldom happened, but when it did it was terrible and it was vile. Atem, he was scared of the dark. But he was scared of thunder more.   _

_ He tried to stay quiet and remain okay. A book in hand, and he tried to read it but the letters shook violently. Tucked his bangs behind his ears, stay calm. Calm down. Yugi had gone downstairs to grab something, but he was kind enough to leave his lantern in the bedroom.  _

_ Another loud rumble, and the book fell. Atem curled in on himself, kept his hands tight over his ears because everything was awful, and the world was suffering. A hand shook his shoulder and he flinched, cowered away from Yugi because he was fearful and he felt foolish.  _

_ “Atem,” Yugi spoke quietly. Turned Atem’s shaking form, and smiled. He grabbed Atem’s hand, a slow and careful gesture. Yugi’s other hand held a wound spool of string, thin and yarn-like. He tied one end of the string to his own finger, to the fourth one. Held Atem’s hand up, wrapped the string around his fourth finger.  _

_ “What are you doing?” Atem asked, voice small and cautious. But he knew Yugi was okay, that he was helping because that was what Yugi did.  _

_ Yugi wrapped the string back around, to his middle finger. “I’m tying us together.” _

_ Atem laughed, sort of. He was still frightened. “I can see that. Why?”  _

_ “When your soul is scared and wants to run away, I have a bridge to walk across and catch it.” He wound the string around their littlest fingers. Small spaces between them, joined by the ties. “Think of it like the lines that connect constellations. No one knows, but it's the shapes between stars that keep them bright. Shhh.” _

_ Atem didn’t understand, but he let Yugi continue.  _

_ Eventually, they ran out of string and were tangled together. Atem moved his hand, and Yugi made a noise. “No. Wait.”  _

_ So Atem did.  _

_ Yugi leaned forward, pressed their lips together. A chaste gesture, soft against Atem’s shaking self. Separated, and Yugi smiled. “Okay.”  _

_ He reached over, grabbed a pair of scissors that Atem didn’t know was there.  _

_ “Now, I’ll cut the strings. But the connection will still be there, just like how you can’t see the lines of constellations in the sky. And I’ll always be able to find you and keep you safe and happy.”  _

_ Atem nodded, understood Yugi’s words as the truth. “Thank you.”  _

_ Yugi started to carefully sever the strings, and the small pieces fell about.  _

_ “Thank you.”  _

_ And after their hands were no longer bound, fingers were interlaced anyway and Atem kissed him. It rained outside, and the thunder was quiet.  _

 

“I… I’m sorry that the drawings were destroyed. It wasn’t me, it was the group of men that came earlier.” 

Atem said nothing, held the drawing in his hands, a precious and damaged thing. Curled over, in the wreckage. 

“I tried to put things back the way they were. This room… always scared me. I could feel the presence of you and the person in the drawings. But I loved being in here anyways. Even though I never met either of you, I felt like I had read a story about your lives, and… it was as if you both were my friends in this house when no one else was.”

“It’s funny,” Atem said as he stood up, “I didn’t let Seto in this room for the longest time because everything in here is about… my adventures with someone else who passed away. If I would’ve known you were coming in here, I would have kicked your butt.” 

Ryo laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t know better. As far as I knew, you and the drawing person-”

“Yugi.”

“...You and Yugi had died years ago.”

“No, just… just him.” Atem set the drawing on the desk, tried to flatten it out. “You know, these drawings were just for fun because there are so little ways to have fun. But after Yugi died, this room felt like a mausoleum. And all the drawings felt like the flowers I had crafted to leave here over the years. But every flower tells a story…” Atem smiled. Thought of the past. “They were only shared between the two of us. And now that he is gone, I’m the one left to carry on those memories. And after I’m gone too, one day, all that will be left are the flowers.” 

Ryo was silent for a while, and then he spoke. “Were you two… more than friends?” 

“Yes.” 

“And now, you and Seto?”

“More than friends.” 

“Lucky duck. I only ever had the person who lit my lantern, I called her my mom, and another girl who was like my sister. They both died when I was pretty young, though. Haven’t met a nice person since.”

“I’m sorry,” Atem said. Turned, leaned against the desk. Faced Ryo, noticed little things. How wide his eyes were, they reminded him of Yugi’s. His hair was such a light color of grey it looked white, and he was frail and dirty. Shaking even when standing still, because the world was cruel and he was cold.

“It’s okay,” Ryo said. “I guess… I’m a little happy.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I got to meet nice people again before I return to my mother and Amane.” 

Atem smiled, started to collect the drawings he missed most, and the string lights in the small hideaway. “I’d say me and Seto have done more harm than good to you, but I suppose it is always nice to cling onto any feeling of happiness that you can, huh?” 

“Right.” 

Atem touched the desk, closed his eyes for a brief moment of silence. Then he started to head towards the door. 

“Are you sure you want to take me to the coast?” 

“Yes, Ryo.” 

“Even if I go crazy and try to hurt you?” 

“Even if you go crazy and try to hurt me.” 

“...Okay. Thank you.” 

They left the room, and found Seto sitting next to the torn couch. He was looking at a toy rocket ship, which he placed on the floor. Rolled it backwards, let go, and watched it fly forward. It rolled near the kitchen before hitting the wall and spinning another direction. 

“It’s a space shuttle,” Seto said. “They used them to orbit the Earth and they sometimes docked on the International Space Station and did work there.”

Ryo looked at the toy. “Oh. Neat.” 

Seto stood, walked over and grabbed the shuttle. “I found some games and blankets to take back with us. Some clothes, too.”

“Good,” Atem said. “We should leave soon.” 

“Okay,” Seto replied.

They took their fill of supplies, enough to ensure that they would never return. How could they, when it had been destroyed and found so many times. 

A home to noone.

Seto quietly said he was sorry. 

Atem told him not to worry. 

And by the time the sun was high in the sky, and they had a brief meal, they left. 

Ryo was a bit slower, and he trailed behind the best he could.  _ Gods  _ they were thankful for the sun, because it casted warmth into their bodies and Ryo didn’t think about the lanterns as much. 

They were on the road again. 

“Ryo,” Atem said.

“Huh?” 

“Tell me about yourself. What do you do for fun?” 

“Oh. I uh, read.”

“What kind of books do you read?” 

“Mostly mystery books. I remember there was this one I really liked that had to do with haunted houses and ghosts. Do you believe in ghosts?” 

Atem frowned. “Define ghosts.” 

“I guess… a ghost would be someone who died that still has a presence.” 

Atem thought of the Gods. Of the hands that pulled Seto underwater, the tar monster. The way he still felt Yugi’s hands on his shoulders in the late nights. “I believe in them.” 

“What about you, Seto?” Ryo asked.

An awkward shift of eyes. Because everything felt terrible, and Seto didn’t know how to speak to anyone anymore.

“I, um… I do.” 

Ryo smiled, despite himself. “You can speak up, Seto. I’m not mad at you.” 

Seto was silent for a while, before directing his attention to the road. 

“You should be,” he said quietly. 

Nobody spoke until the sun went down. 


	24. Dangerous

“Let’s take a break,” Atem said. 

This was when everything felt nervous. Ryo was shivering, and the lanterns were bright. 

He sat down, watched Seto and Atem unroll blankets. The cold clawed into his soul with decayed fingers, and the feeling was terrible. 

Seto noticed. Grabbed a blanket, walked over. “Here.” Wrapped the blanket around Ryo’s shoulders. Tried to smile, but it only looked like he flinched because his mouth didn’t want to stop being expressionless.  

“Thank you,” Ryo said. But the blankets didn’t do anything, it was his insides that felt frosted. It was only when Seto stepped near, and the lantern swung about closely, that Ryo felt warm. 

But as soon as Seto walked away, everything hurt. 

“Alright, Seto. You can sleep first, and…” Atem glanced at Ryo. “You should try and get sleep too.” 

Ryo nodded, knew it was for the best because nighttime was cruel and being awake was terrible. “Okay.” 

Seto handed his lantern over to Atem, and Atem held onto Seto’s shoulder to make him stay a second longer. 

“Goodnight, Seto. I love you.” He kissed his cheek. 

“I love you too.” A small smile, and then he walked back over to the pile of blankets. Ryo was already deep into faded quilts, Seto could tell because the pile shook violently. It was odd, sleeping next to someone else. Unusual, because Atem’s warmth was always there. Now, it was distant, because there was no comfort in Ryo’s body. No beacon, a home to nobody because the warmth and light had been blown away. And it made him sad, because Seto knew he had lead the vandalizing men into Ryo’s home and they took him away. So he offered what little he had to the departed. 

“You can stay close,” Seto said quietly, as he adjusted himself in the pile of blankets. 

“Are you sure?” Chattering teeth, and it was nostalgic of all the people Seto had shot. 

“Yes.” 

“...”

Ryo inched closer, and turned so their backs were touching. It reminded Seto of the night he and Atem met, when they slept the same way in the shopping center. Which, was only a short distance away. Maybe four miles. He would ask to go, but time was sensitive and so was Ryo’s soul. 

“Thank you,” Ryo said. He shook, but Seto could feel the warmth of skin. 

“Uh-huh.” Seto closed his eyes. 

Atem glanced over, frowned. “Don’t get too cuddly.” 

Seto smiled. Opened his eyes and looked at Atem. “You told me the first night I stayed at your house, that sleeping next to someone was just for warmth and security. Not a romantic thing. Remember?” 

Ryo laughed, a weak and trembled sound. “Romance still existing is absolutely  _ bizarre.”  _

“So is the return of butterflies and sunshine,” Atem said. Looked back at Seto. Comfort between them, even though they weren’t sharing sheets. 

They kept gazes crossed, until Seto started to doze off. Atem looked at the stars. Read by the candlelight. A book that Seto had lent him, about the space travel. And he let his imagination escape him. 

_ He saw himself, floating through the International Space System, in the Harmony module. A camera in hand. Laughing. Seto was running on the treadmill, about five minutes into his astronomical jog.   _

_ “Seto. Say hi to Earth.”  _

_ A small smile, and a wave. Seto’s hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but the lack of gravity made it whisp about. He looked like he was running underwater. Familiar.  _

_ “Whatcha doing?”  _

_ Seto glanced, before focusing his attention on the screen in front of him.  _

_ “Running,” he breathed. “To prevent myself from getting spaceflight osteopenia or muscle atrophy. Also, while in space, red blood cell production decreases, among other cardiovascular issues. Exercising is required.” _

_ “Thanks for the high school explanation, but remember that we are recording this for elementary students as well.” Atem grinned, stuck his tongue out at him. Focused the camera on Seto’s face. “Give me the simple talk.”  _

_ “I’m running,” Seto started again, “because humans experience weightlessness in space. So, we are very very light and it confuses our bodies. Therefore, I have to exercise to keep my muscles, bones, and heart strong.”  _

_ “There you go,” Atem said.  _

_ “Let me see the camera,” Seto asked as he slowed the treadmill to a stop. His hair flowing about him, the slight glisten of his skin.  _

_ “Okay…” Atem handed the device over. “But remember that I’m the teacher, and you’re the subject. Hah.”  _

_ Seto kept himself restrained to the treadmill, aimed the camera at Atem. Smiled. “Here we have your teacher. A perfect example of what zero-gravity does to hair.”  _

_ Atem frowned, grabbed at his bangs and held them to the side of his face. But the rest of his hair was still suspended upwards. _

_ “A perfect poof-ball.”  _

_ Atem shifted towards him and took the camera back. “Want to see a real poof-ball?”  _

_ With one hand, Atem released the ponytail from Seto’s hair, and ruffled his hand through it.  _

_ Seto’s hair spread about, and it looked so familiar. Like the Gods, but Gods weren’t real.  _

_ “Look at that volume.”  _

_ “Turn the camera off,” Seto sighed, reaching to snag the ponytail from Atem’s hand. “You’re way too distracted to do any good work.”  _

_ “Fine,” Atem said. Turned the camera off, and tied it to his wrist. “But our time here is limited. So I guess that’s a five minute break for me.”  _

_ “And that is all I would ask of you,” Seto replied, arms extended. Atem was floating, and he grabbed onto Seto’s hands, fingers entwined.  _

_ Seto pulled his arms back, and Atem fell forward slowly, until his momentum was stopped by Seto’s lips.  _

_ They kissed, there, in eternal space. It wasn’t easy, because Atem’s body wouldn’t quit moving. So Seto wrapped his arms around his waist and became his support. The slight brushing of tongues, sighs heard by no one. Atem’s fingers light on Seto’s cheek, everything was light, and they were limitless.  _

_ Miles away from Earth, away from bad news. _

 

Atem’s eyes opened, and he heard the sound of crying. He cursed himself quietly for allowing himself to get captured in his dreams, it put all of them in danger. He glanced over, and saw scenes that were so nostalgic, because he had lived through them before.

Small voices. 

Ryo was shaking violently as he always did, but it was worse. Seto was holding onto him, hugging him from behind and sharing his warmth the best he could. But Atem knew it served another purpose: a restriction to prevent Ryo from jolting out of the blankets and grabbing for the lanterns, grabbing for false life. 

“It hurts,” Ryo cried. “It hurts.” 

“I know, I know.” Seto held on tight, tried to give life to the dead but it was so hard. 

But Atem, he knew how. 

 

_ “It hurts, he said. “It hurts.”  _

_ In the low hours of the night, Atem held his lantern out. Placed it into Yugi’s hands. And he saw, how the life in Yugi’s soul came back. But it was at the expense of the candle, it flickered and Atem was hurting. Yugi’s head lolled back, his fingers glowing with light. Mouth parted, eyes closed. A small noise, and Yugi stopped shaking. A slow exhale, and Yugi opened his eyes. And it was like he wasn’t going to die anymore, everything was fine. But Atem could feel it, the ice creeping into his skin. It was Yugi’s fingers on the glass, his cold soul seeping into the wax.  _

_ It hurt. It hurt.  _

_ Atem felt everything, and he wished it would stop. But Yugi wasn’t shaking, and that was all that mattered. He collapsed, curled in on himself in the muddy ground. Cried for all that was lost, and the agony that pulled at his insides.  _

_ But suddenly everything had changed, because the warmth came back and the cold fingers that gripped his Self were absent.  _

_ Shaking hands touched his shoulders, and his lover’s forehead touched his.  _

_ “It’s not worth it, Atem. You’re already the hero. You carry the fire. Don’t let me take it from you. You need to be selfish, just this once. Your shoulders are not strong enough to carry the world. But they are strong enough to lift my bones, and plant flowers.”  _

 

Atem remembered the feeling, used it as preparation for how it would hurt now. He carried his cracked lantern, held onto the brass ring tightly. Knelt down in front of Ryo, grabbed one of his trembling hands and held it up to the glass. 

It was terribly painful. But Atem smiled, and watched Ryo’s hand still. 

Seto propped himself up, peered over Ryo’s shoulder and stumbled over his words and actions. “What, Atem, what are you doing?”

Atem stared back, gave him a look. And they had known each other long enough, words without speaking. 

_ Hush, love.  _

Atem smiled. 

_ Hush. _ _   
_ Seto reclined, but he watched carefully. Ryo was quiet, hands still. Then he started to cry, quietly, but it was the most human Seto and Atem had seen him be. 

“I feel alive,” Ryo sobbed. “I feel alive.” 

Only once Atem started to waver, did Seto quietly intervene. “Okay, Atem. Okay. It’s your turn to get sleep.”

Atem shivered, nodded just barely. 

“Thank you,” Ryo said quietly. But he shook now.

Seto sat up next to where Atem was prior, lanterns in hand. Watched the other two fall asleep, cold and sad. But he kept himself entertained, rubik’s cube in hand. 

The night passed quietly by them, and morning came quickly.

Seto had stayed awake by candlelight, tracing over the pages of the book Atem was reading. He smiled, hoped Atem was at least slightly interested in spaceflight so they could daydream about flying through the endless night.  

But he didn’t need to ask, because Atem was already sitting up, stretching and glancing at Seto’s book. 

“Morning,” Atem said. 

“Morning,” Seto replied. 

“I like the book so far.” 

“Do you?” 

“Yeah. I had a dream about it, actually.” 

“Really? What happened?” 

“You and I were on the International Space Station. This big building… thing, up in space. I’m not even sure if it was in the book or not. But we were there. I was a teacher, and you were working on maintenance.” 

Seto smiled. “Oh. That sounds nice.” 

“It was. We kissed in space.” 

Moments shared between them, and Seto kept smiling. Looked at Atem’s eyes, because he loved him. He leaned over and Atem understood, a small exchange of adoration and affection pressed to their lips. 

“I wanna brush my teeth,” Atem said. 

“Me too.” 

“Haha.”


	25. Say Something Loving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I know this chapter is... A Lot. That being said, I'm going to give a warning for the chapter, but leave it at the chapter notes at the end-- as the warning itself, is a spoiler for the chapter. If you'd like to know ahead of time, feel free to skip to the end and read the warning.

Ryo woke soon after, or maybe he was awake the whole time. They didn’t know, didn’t want to. They knew it hurt, watching the living share warmth between the whispers of two. 

“Are you ready?” Atem asked. 

“Yes,” Ryo replied. 

The blankets were rolled up, a small breakfast of dried fruits and raw potatoes. Hard to eat, but it was something. As they continued on the road, Ryo started to suffer. And it was so nostalgic, because Atem saw his trip to the coast with Yugi in his eyes. 

“Let me carry you,” Atem offered. 

Ryo shook his head. But he didn’t complain when Atem stopped in front of him and bent his knees slightly. He jumped onto Atem’s back, and they began to walk. But it wasn’t long before Atem got tired, and they had to stop. Seto was much taller, and Ryo stayed off the ground much better than before. So he carried him for a while, and nobody spoke. The forest became much more lush, and they could hear birds. Unusual. The road stretched from beneath them, and all was quiet except for rustling animals. Others had guns now, and being loud was much more dangerous than before. They outwalked the sun, and Seto was tired after a few hours. When they took a break, Seto didn’t realize how exhausted he was until the weight was lifted from his shoulders, and he collapsed. 

But from his tiny place on the ground, there, he could see Ryo crying. Atem’s hands on his shoulders, and they were talking. 

“I can’t,” Ryo said. “I can’t. I’m so cold. It hurts. Leave me.” 

“We are nearly there,” Atem replied. “Just hold out. We found a shorter route this time, we will get there tomorrow morning.” 

“No,” Ryo put his head in his hands. Sobbed. “No.” 

Seto glanced over, tired eyes and body. “I have an idea. We could scoot some stuff aside in the cart and have him sit in it.” 

Atem contemplated. “That might work.” 

So they tried, and helped Ryo into the cart. “I think we should try to get there tonight,” Atem said. “I don’t know how much longer he can wait.” 

_ Gods  _ they were tired. But they moved on anyway, and the sun disappeared. The three walked in silence, only stopped to calm down Ryo when his sobs became too loud. 

Seto’s curious mind seeped from his lips for better or for worse, and he spoke to Atem quietly. 

“Was…” He didn’t know how to phrase it. “Was it like this when… you took Yugi to the coast?” 

“Yes,” Atem said. “But Yugi had only lost his lantern the night before we left for the coast. Ryo has been cold for a few more days than that. We need to hurry.” 

Atem and Seto spoke quietly, hoped the squeaky wheels of the cart would mask their voices from Ryo’s pained ears. 

“Do you think he will make it?” 

“I don’t know,” Atem replied.

“Will he try to hurt us?” 

“I don’t know.” 

Seto felt terrible. “I miss Cat.” 

“Me too.” 

Eventually, they stopped, because Atem had an idea. He grabbed one of the bags that was sitting in the cart, started rustling through it. He pulled out a small plush cat, grey fur matted with age and love. His neck tensed when he spoke, and Seto smiled. There was a childish sense of embarrassment coming from Atem, and it made Seto feel young.

“I have had this for a long time. I, uh. Had it tucked in one of the closets. It might…” Atem laughed a little. “This sounds dumb, but it might be of some comfort, even if it is just a little bit.” He handed the plush to Ryo, and shivering hands accepted. 

“Thank you,” Ryo said quietly, and he held it tight. A small smile on his face. “There is life in these threads.” 

“I suppose there would be,” Atem replied. They started on the road again. 

“You never told me you had that,” Seto eventually said.  

Atem frowned. “It’s embarrassing. I used to sleep with it. Yugi was always around, so he knew since the beginning. But I guess… I guess I put it elsewhere when you moved in, because I figured you’d think I was childish.” 

Seto placed his hand on top of Atem’s, as it pushed the cart along. “Being childish in a world where youths are born wise and without naivety is an amazing thing.” 

Maybe it was the stars, the far off shining lights that looked like tiny splatters of candle wax. Maybe it was because home was near, and they had,  _ Gods _ , they had made it so far together. Seto didn’t know, but he was filled with admiration and love for the other. So he leaned into Atem’s side, replaced his hand to wrap around Atem’s waist. 

“I wish I could craft words that would demonstrate how much I care for you.” 

There was a slight confidence in Atem’s walk after the words were spoken. “Hah, maybe you’ll be able to after a good night’s sleep. Your brain is broken right now from exhaustion. I’ll expect a full report when we get back to the house.” 

“Okay.” 

“You know, you are really pretty.” 

Seto laughed, kinda. “Pretty?” 

“Pretty eyes, pretty hair, pretty body, pretty soul.”

“...You think so?” Seto remembered what blushing felt like. 

“I do.” 

“I, um. I think you have all those things too. The pretty things. And more. Like… I don’t know. You have a nice nose.” Seto frowned. “Mine’s big. I don’t like it.” 

“Hah. Thank you.” Atem leaned into Seto’s hold. “I like your nose, though. It isn’t  _ that  _ big. You’re not like. A monster, or anything.” 

Seto’s mind went elsewhere. Thought of the tar monster, all of the bad things. 

Atem noticed. 

“You’re fine.” 

“Yeah.” 

“You’re fine, Seto.” 

“Yeah.” 

 

The coast was near, they could tell because Ryo started to move after hours of silence. It wasn’t that he was tired, no. It was because the plague that iced over all that he was, it wanted to speak for him. Say terrible things. Ryo wanted to be the good guy,  _ Gods,  _ he wanted to be the good guy. But now the Gods were calling him home, and things almost felt okay. 

“I smell it,” Ryo said. 

“Yeah.” Atem was nervous. “Me too.” 

Seto, he wanted to keep his distance. The ocean, it was a terrifying place. He knew it was the home of the ancient being that wore his face. But this was important, and Ryo needed to go home. 

By the time they arrived at white sands, the sun was starting to rise. It casted their shadows into the ocean, and the obsidian ate them. The cart’s wheels were stuck into the beach, and Atem walked over to Ryo’s curled self. 

“Can you stand?” 

“Yes.” 

Atem started to help him, but his arms were weak from hauling their luggage. So Seto stepped in.

“Let me help.” 

Ryo nodded. Held his arms out, and Seto picked him up. But it was different, because he wasn’t carrying him on his back. Rather, Ryo was light in his arms, Seto’s hands gripping onto his shoulders and knees.  _ Like a child,  _ yes, he had done this before.

Long hair that curled around a tired face, and Seto had to convince himself that he wasn’t carrying Mokuba to bed. 

He hoped Ryo didn’t mind, the way he held him longer than he needed to. Eyes closed, and he loved the weight in his arms. He only wished… 

Seto’s fingers gripped the body tightly. 

He only wished he could have carried Mokuba to the ocean. Saw him off, ensured a peaceful afterlife. But he had witnessed his death, it was sudden, and it was painful. 

And he wondered what the afterlife was like, if there was one at all. The ocean was the final prayer before passing, a quiet moment of worship before bodies went into the realm of unknown. 

This, Seto understood. But he hoped the Gods were forgiving, because Mokuba deserved to be happy. 

Ryo laughed nervously, a quiet sound. “I can stand now.”

“Oh.” Seto set him down carefully. “Sorry.” 

_ Thank you.  _

And he watched, as Ryo’s eyes took in everything. 

The black abyss, the birthplace of all. 

“I haven’t been to the ocean in a long time,” Ryo said. 

“Yeah.” Atem shrugged. “We live off the coast now.” 

“Isn’t that terrifying?” 

“Yes, it is.” 

“Oh.” 

Atem looked over, smiled. But it was sad. 

“Are you ready?” 

“Yes,” Ryo replied. But it was sad.

“I do have a tiny request, though. If you two are up for it.” 

“What would that be?”

“Could…” Ryo looked at the ocean. “Could I have… a hug? And…” He shook his head. “I mean, a normal hug, yes, but… can you two pretend that we have all known each other a long time? That we are family?”

The ocean was a constant sound, and it drowned out the emotions of them all, they hoped. 

Because they all knew, the terrible and  _ Gods so prevalent,  _ loneliness behind those words. And they were sorry, they were all so sorry that they didn’t all meet earlier. It was a quiet sadness. Atem wondered many things, and so did Seto. 

What Ryo’s lantern looked like. 

His pastimes, what a laugh with unrestricted enjoyment sounded like. 

What his favorite articles of clothing were, if he had any bad jokes.

They all hated that it was time to say goodbye so soon, when it felt like they were the only people left carrying the fire. Both Atem and Seto approached, and they embraced the cold man. A small motion, but it swept waves across Ryo’s heart, the way arms crossed over his back, the scent of humans that were good. 

_ Warmth.  _

But he didn’t expect a hand to run over the top of his head, and untangle the knots in his unruly hair. 

“I’m sorry,” Seto whispered. “I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Ryo replied. “You never meant to hurt anyone. I can tell your heart is kind. Your heart will change this world.” 

Seto didn’t reply, just continued to untangle knots. “I’m… going to watch the cart.”  He pulled away from the embrace, but not before kissing the top of Ryo’s head, and Atem’s cheek. He put his hands in his pockets, and walked away. Atem could tell, Seto was in a lot of pain, that he didn’t want to watch. A small sign of weakness from a very very strong spirit. 

“When… when I’m ready,” Ryo called out to Seto. “Will you see me off?” 

“Yes.” Seto sat near the cart, untied his hair and combed his fingers through it. Only stopped to wipe tears and snot from his face. 

And then it was just two. 

Atem backed up a step, put his hands on Ryo’s shoulders. They shook. 

“Will you do me a favor, Ryo?” 

Ryo laughed. “Considering I’ll be gone in a few minutes, I’m not really sure what I can do for you. But shoot for it.” 

He spoke quietly. “You… know Yugi? The one from my drawings? He also went to the ocean. If you see him,” Atem laughed, shook his head. “This is dumb, but, tell him Atem said ‘hi.’”

“Will do,” Ryo replied. Smiled. “Kinda helps that I snooped through your drawings, huh? I know what he looks like, so I’ll wave if I spot him. Ask him out for a coffee.” 

Atem smiled. “You’re a wonderful person, you know that?” 

“So are you, and I’m glad that the Gods blessed me with a family again.” 

The ocean called for its child.

Atem hugged Ryo one last time. “Are you ready?” 

“Yes.” 

While Ryo discarded his clothing, Atem walked over to Seto and ran his fingers over the top of Seto’s head, soft but dirty hair. “Come on.”

“Okay.” 

Ryo stood, naked, and watched the black abyss churn. Eyes wide, and his hands shook. The expanse, it called to him. Beckoned like a drug. 

“I’m scared.” 

Atem and Seto said nothing, because there was nothing to say. 

Ryo’s shoulders turned, and he looked at them. Nervous, and there were tears on his face. “Could… you guys walk me there?” 

“Okay,” Atem said quietly. Started to walk towards the naked man. But Seto, he was afraid. The ocean was terrifying, and he hated it. He knew what was there, and he didn’t want to feel the small hands pull him under. But he wanted to be brave, because it was the only good he could do for Ryo after ruining everything. So he walked to Ryo’s side, held his right hand because Atem was holding the other one.

Ryo gripped both of their hands tightly, and they started to walk. The ocean spoke, and Seto could hear it. An ancient tongue that he didn’t know, but  _ Gods, _ he had at some point. The white sands ate their steps, and they approached the tiny waves. Grey tides. 

Ryo stopped, as the water washed over his feet. 

Seto, too, the obsidian wrapped around his ankles. The ocean burned his skin. 

He finally understood the chants of old, because it was the voices of millions, the voices of  _ All.  _

The voice of one. 

And he voicelessly recited the words to himself. 

 

_ The world knows no bounds _

_ We will not know the world  _

_ This is for our sins _

_ Yours are stained with red _

 

Ryo let go of their hands. Seto opened his eyes. Watched him walk, body submerged into the obsidian. Once Ryo was waist deep, he turned. Looked at both of them, at Atem. 

And it was the same look that Yugi gave him when he disappeared into nothing. He assumed that was the call of everything, the core of the Earth taking back its fragmented soul. 

They could both feel it, the presence of the deceased, of the broken Gods. 

When Ryo spoke, it was not himself. No, it was the blood of the Earth.  

Eyes wide, hair flowing with a wind that wasn’t there at all. 

“A man lives for however long God grants.” 

And then Ryo turned, walked into the obsidian slowly. Pale, dirty shoulders were cleaned, and his hair curled about on the water’s surface. 

Lowered, until there was nothing left but little ringlets in the water where his body was.  

 

 

And they witnessed the death of a quiet man. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The warning for this chapter, is character death. Though, there is no violence involved. 
> 
> (Also, credit for the words Seto recites towards the end belongs to Lowercase Noises, in their song Death in a Garden.)


	26. Lips

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is staying warm.

Dinner was quiet that night. But it wasn’t all bad, because Atem and Seto sat close to each other. Knees touching, hands occasionally bumping.

Seto never put his hair back up.

Eventually, after the plates were cleared, they sat on the couch. Held hands, until it wasn’t enough. The cold isolation of the world had threatened them for days, and they needed reminders that things could be okay. Seto turned to rest on his side, and Atem curled his body to form against his. The couch faced the sliding glass doors, the ones that were pointed towards the direction of the ocean. They were both looking outside.

“What do you think happens? When you go to the ocean?”

Atem drew tiny circles on Seto’s hand, which was tucked next to his collarbones. “I honestly don’t know. From what I’ve gathered, you just… return to where you came from. You know, the place that all souls originate.”

“Okay. Do you think, then, that the souls of the deceased are still alive?”

Atem thought about it. Hated what he believed in, because it wasn’t what he wanted. “I… think they are. But I don’t think any passed souls exist as their own unit anymore. I think they all join at the same place and become one. Kind of like a raindrop falling into a pond. Sure, you can extract the same amount of water from the pond afterwards, and it might have traces of the original raindrop. But getting the same one back is impossible.”

Seto said nothing.

“...Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” Seto replied.

“Are you okay?”

Seto shrugged.

“Yeah.” Atem leaned into his form a bit more, kept them both warm. “Me too.”

They both fell asleep quickly, their bodies craved it. But it was short, because Atem woke to the sound of scratching at the door. Atem smiled, got up as quietly as he could because Seto was still quietly breathing with tired eyes closed.

At the front entrance was their final family member, who waited patiently for Atem to open the door after the footsteps stopped.

“Welcome home,” Atem said. He turned the knob, and Cat walked inside quietly, rubbed the side of his face against Atem’s ankle. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

Atem knelt down, and scooped the small creature into his arms. Walked over to the couch, and set Cat next to Seto’s side.

Cat walked over to Seto’s unmoving and curled hand, and attempted to receive attention from it. Eventually it responded, and Seto’s eyes opened just barely. A small smile.

“Hi Cat,” Seto said quietly.

“He missed you.”

“No he didn’t,” Seto yawned and made a better effort in petting Cat. “He missed _you._ He just puts up with me because I give him attention when you’re not available.”

“Not true. Cat loves you.” Atem sat down, leaned over the couch and reached for Seto’s bangs. Brushed them aside. His hair was dirty and tangled, but it still managed to look okay. _“I_ love you.”

Seto smiled. “Looks like this whole family loves one another, then.”

“Yup.”

They kissed, a brief reminder that they could always find comfort in each other.

“Your breath stinks.”

Seto frowned. Pushed his index finger onto Atem’s forehead. “So does yours, but I wouldn’t tell you that.”

“Hehe. I know.”

Cat leapt off the couch and began exploring the house he had missed.

“Let’s brush our teeth and go to bed. That couch will break your back _just_ like my old one.”

Seto thought of memories that weren’t his. Of the books he read, and the advertisements on the walls. The echoes of the golden days, and he wanted to pretend. “I don’t feel like walking.”

“You gotta.” Atem stood up, stretched his back.

Tired and blushed cheeks because he knew the request was stupid. But he wanted to pretend, because he was tired of carrying the burden of All _._

He wanted to pretend. “Can…”

Atem waited.

“Can you carry me?”

A small laugh. _“Carry_ you? You tower over me as it is- I’d probably drop you.”

“...Yeah.” Seto felt stupid. But he thought of memories, a girl with long hair and frayed shorts, long grass. Flowers. Teenagers, a boy with a button-up plaid shirt, shorts that were colored brightly. He carried her, and they both flowed forward. Festivals, and warm weather.

They were happy and they were dating.

Atem stopped smiling, because he saw genuine disappointment and rejection all over Seto’s face and he could _feel_ it. Thought of the way Seto’s face looked when he carried Ryou, it hurt. Collapsed legs and calls for help.

Atem shrugged. “Okay, we can give it a try. _But,_ if you’re too heavy I’m going to set you down immediately.”

“It’s fine, you don’t-”

“I _know_ I don’t have to.” Atem brushed his hand against Seto’s shoulder. “I just enjoy seeing you happy.”

Seto was happy. “Okay.”

Atem bent his knees, readied his arms and hands. “Let’s go.”

It was difficult, but Seto did his best to wrap his arms around Atem’s shoulders, a small jump and Atem caught his legs and held him upright. There was a slight wobble, before they were stable and walking.

It was sweet, comforting. Because for the first time, Seto was being carried by someone else when his feet were just _too damn tired_ to keep going. Atem expected him to be heavier, but he forgot that Seto was very skinny.

“I’m super strong, aren’t I?” Atem smirked. The bedroom was close, and he remembered that they still needed a fresh basin of water.

“Super strong,” Seto replied.

It was fascinating, seeing the world shift without needing to push through it. Progressing, and feeling Atem’s body move and the floorboards give without making any movement at all. The most comfort he had ever felt.

Atem nudged the door open with his shoulder, and lowered himself near the bed so Seto could slide off.

“Thank you,” Seto said. “I just… remembered that sometimes people used to do that in the golden days, people that were dating, and stuff.”

Atem headed towards the door, turned his head to Seto. Smiled warmly. “Aren’t _we_?”

Seto smiled back. “I suppose we are.”

When Atem returned with fresh water, Seto was already asleep. He shook his shoulder lightly.

“Hey. You’ll get dirt all over in the sheets.”

Seto got up with a sigh, and groggily walked to the connected bathroom. The light of the lanterns already illuminated the room with soft colors. They brushed their teeth in silence, and Seto asked if he could use the rest of the fresh water to wash his skin. Atem said yes, and they sat in the lowlight and washed the dirt off of their faces. Odd, since it had been so long. But they stripped down until they were left in minimal clothing.

Seto looked at Atem’s stomach.

“We haven’t been eating well lately.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“Tomorrow, let’s find a bunch of bread.”

Atem laughed. Washed his feet off after everything else was decently clean. “Haha. Where?”

“A tree.”

“Hah.”

They dressed in clean clothes, and rested in bed together.

“One day, though. We will eat bread.”

“Yes. I sure hope so, Seto.”

“Me too.”   


* * *

 

It had started to get cold again in the following months, but things were fine. The new house had been completely set up, and Atem used one of the spare rooms as another art studio. Nostalgia kicked in when Atem told Seto he wasn’t allowed in there. Out of spite, Seto started to make his own use of the remaining spare room, and he made a small library. It was for space explorers, and all of his posters of the universe found a new home. A small bookshelf held all his books, and atop was every toy rocket he had ever found. At one point, he even found a small brass astronaut that he put right next to a model kit of Apollo 11.

At first, Seto told Atem he wasn’t allowed in the room. But that decision was soon revoked, because they had both stumbled through the open doorway on the night before Seto’s birthday.

“Gimme,” Atem said, giggling and struggling against Seto’s height.

Seto shook his head, smiled and laughed in a style that had been gone since the golden days.

“Fine. Play it the hard way.” Atem did what he knew was sin, and reached to tickle Seto’s sides. The targeted object fell from Seto’s hands, and they both held their breath and waited for the worst.

But the worst never came, the bottle of vodka hit the floor with a decent thud before rolling and hitting the wall. Not a single crack.

They both were still for a moment. Then Atem snickered, picked up the bottle and took a swig from it.

“Look what you did.”

Seto frowned, snagged the bottle from Atem’s hands. “That was entirely your fault. You almost ruined my room.”

“Pfft. _Your_ room.”

“Yes, _my_ room.”

Atem walked around, remarkably well despite the slight wobble in his step. “I like it here. Though, I swear, everyone is absolutely obsessed with space except for me.”

Seto smiled. “And by everyone, you just mean me and Yugi.”

Atem removed a book from the shelf. Sat down next to Seto’s legs, which soon collapsed when Seto met him on the floor.

He looked over, at the book in Atem’s hands.

“Brown Bear, Brown Bear.”

Atem shrugged. “I thought the drawing looked funny.”

Seto didn’t reply, so he kept talking.

“I mean, I’ve never seen a real bear before. But _this_ one, hah.” Atem opened the book. “He just looks, I don’t know. Way too beady-eyed and cute to be carnivorous.”

“Well, it’s a children’s book,” Seto said flatly, stared at the open page.

“I know that,” Atem replied. Turned the page, there was a red bird looking back at him. “Did I say something that upset you? You were all laughs and smiles until a second ago.”

He turned another page.

“No,” Seto replied. “You’re fine. That used to be Mokuba’s favorite book. That’s all. I just…” He thought of his God granted youth. “I just haven’t looked at it in a while, I guess.”

“Oh.” Atem shut the book. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to… you know.”

“It’s okay.”

A moment of silence, as Atem put the book away. Sat back down, but not before he grabbed a blanket off of the unused bed. He put it in their laps, leaned his head against Seto’s shoulder.

“Did you used to read that to him?”

“Yeah.” Seto smiled, felt nostalgic. “Everyone that began again after the golden days knew how to read. Even if we all washed up as young children with no knowledge of nothing. I guess the Gods are kind sometimes.”

“Sometimes.”

“But, even though Mokuba could read perfectly well, he insisted that I read it to him. I guess… it made him feel like a normal child. You know, back when babies were born with no knowledge of anything at all.”

“...Yeah,” Atem replied. “I get that. I bet babies look weird. I once read that they were _incredibly_ high maintenance. Very particular diets, they screamed a whole bunch, and just… went to the bathroom whenever they wanted, _wherever_ they wanted. Oh. And they’re super soft and pudgy.”

Seto nodded.

“Oh! You’d like this. All babies were born with blue eyes. They’d usually change colors later, but yeah. All of ‘em. Blue eyes, just like you.”

A shift in the blankets, as Seto lifted his hand to run it through Atem’s hair. “How interesting.”

“Yup,” Atem closed his eyes to the feeling. “Bet your eyes would still be a prettier color, even back then, in comparison to _all_ the babies on Earth.”

Seto laughed, a quiet sound in the lowlight. “Okay, now your flattery is a bit too exaggerated to be truthful.”

Atem sat upright, shook his head. “Nope. Not at all. Your eyes were gifts from the Gods themselves. We both know that.”

“And so were yours. I don’t think _any_ human has ever had eyes like yours. Not in the golden days, not now.”

“Maybe so.”

They spent a while staring at each other, appreciation for the divine until Atem puffed his cheeks up.

“Pretty,” Seto said. Grinned.

Atem scooted closer, threw away the idea of making silly faces to let Seto hold his, lips close and eyes closed.

“Today is October 24th,” Atem said. “Many notable things happened on this day in history.”

His hands shifted, held Seto’s and they faced each other. Seto kept his eyes closed, because this was special and he didn’t want to risk tears.

“The White Sands rocket launched on this day in… 1946, I think, and it took the first picture of Earth from outer space.”

Seto opened his eyes. “How did you know that?”

“Read your books a little closer,” Atem teased. “Anyway. Another notable event exactly one year ago. Two people, one being 20 and the other being 20-ish, had an eventful encounter at a shopping center. The 20 year old, a kind man named Seto, was injured and eventually came back to the 20-something year old’s house. After some minor debate, they decided to live with each other, and they remained the two happiest people on Earth.”

“...Oh,” Seto was happy, and he didn’t know how to demonstrate it. So he pressed his forehead to Atem’s, and spoke.

“And that 20 year old man’s life was filled with happiness, and has been since. He loves that 20-something year old man more than anything, and he gave him a renewed purpose to live.”

“Shucks.” Atem tilted his head, pecked Seto’s lips before lying on the floor.

Seto shifted, one arm against the floorboards and supporting his weight. Slightly hovered over Atem, and he returned the gesture with soft lips and feelings.

“You haven’t put your hair in a bun in a while,” Atem said. Quiet words, and the lanterns emitted the warm low light they always did.

Seto tucked his hair behind his ears, yet it still fell forward easily. “No, I suppose I haven’t.”

But there was a reason, oh, they both knew.

 

_A man lives for however long God grants._

 

“It looks nice either way.” Atem let his fingers feel through loose strands, twirled locks around his index finger and then let them fall. _“You_ look nice either way.”

“Your words are unusually kind today,” Seto said.

“Pfft. I’m _always_ kind.”

A small chuckle, then Seto leaned down to press more meaning into Atem’s being, lips touching. Atem’s arms drifted, hands on Seto’s back, his spine, hands felt the tiny divots and crevices that bones made. Touch through fabric, and it was comfortable. Breaths deepened, and so did the wants and needs that stained the walls of the room orange. Teeth grazed accidentally and they forgot about it, tongues brushing and small spaces everywhere seemed to reflect their warmth.

They made a makeshift bed of blankets on the floor, because moving to the larger bed upstairs was too much work and the thought of moving away from the feeling of bodies pressed against each other sounded like too much.

The small bed in the corner of the room was stripped bare, and so were they. It was so normal now, how they found each other’s skin in the dark. A form of comfort only shared between two. Fingers pressed against lingering arms, tangled into clean hair. Atem had his knees on either side of Seto’s hips, spine curled as he kissed down his neck. Marks left with meaning, Atem had already received some in various spots. His neck, shoulders, and even on his forearm because Seto was being silly. They joked because both of them had recollection of the golden days when such marks were deemed dirty and inappropriate to the public eye. Laughed, because there _was_ no public eye now. Just the cold people, and those with lanterns.

Bad people, good people.

Bad people wanted to find everything, and the good people wanted to hide from everything.

Nothing like the golden days, no.

Despite this, _Gods,_ Atem and Seto were happy because they remembered the forbidden concepts of trust and faith. To believe in others at all.

_And it felt so damn good._

The marks left behind were reminders that they were the lucky ones. Those with trust and faith in another, the wild concepts of love and intimacy.

It was always the morning after, when the neck of a sweater hung just low enough, when they stripped to bathe at the old dock with hands held tightly as they jumped in together, when the light shined through the stained glass window during the dead hours of the night, when someone was still awake and consumed by admiration, that the tiny discolorations of skin would show and they would both smile.

Seto tilted his neck to the side and shifted his shoulder downwards, let Atem leave reminders that they were both alive and they loved each other. Everything was careful, everything was fragile. Light breaths, Seto’s eyes were closed. It was so nice.

 _It was so nice,_ the pleasantries of the golden days. They were somewhere else, and this was, yes, Seto was playing pretend.

 

_“Shhh,” Atem chuckled. “For the last time, nobody is home. I promise.”_

_Seto nodded and they sat in the driveway, in Atem’s car._


End file.
